The Drafted Squid
by ThePizzaLovingTurtle
Summary: Inkopolis is a blooming city of commerce, ink, fashion, and the home to the Turf Wars. Life was never just as simple, however. Before the stage of Splatoon has been truly set, follow Phish Bate, Ophelia Coddlin, Portic Orkin, and Rinse Guilin, young Inklings drafted, volunteered, and enlisted in a war that started it all in a world filled with color.
1. Young Lives

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Young Lives**

"You've all been called here for a purpose." One Inkling's voice echoed throughout a desolate grassland.

The crackling of a campfire filled the silence after the initial statement rang out through the air. A line of Inklings stood up straight, most with battle-hardened expressions on their faces. They were garbed in army gear, a few with berets, most with weapons that resembled bamboo canes held in their hands. The trudging of a single pair of boots through the dirt remained steady as a female walked among the whole of the troops, her pair of tentacles flowing in the wind.

"I understand not all of you want to be here. Shell, even I don't want to be here." She spoke up.

A few of the soldiers shivered. One of them sat at the side, a helmet haphazardly placed on their head obscuring their face. The Inkling did not respond.

The commander sighed, placing her hands at her side. "We can't ignore them. They're advancing at a tremendous rate. There's little power for the respawn pads… The city is threatened… All because of the Octarians."

The name of their enemy sent mixed reactions through the troop. A few of them sweat or swallowed instinctively. Others cracked their knuckles and held their guns' triggers threateningly.

"But Cod darn it, we can't let those Octo-Jerks near Inkopolis. Cuttlefish's Splatoon has already gone ahead, attempting to get the cat on our side. That leaves us as one of the only line of defenses left." She scowled, the shadow of her beret covering her eyes.

A decisive agreement consisting of murmurs washed over them all. The squid previously sitting had removed his helmet, revealing a blue head with blue tentacles tied in a bun. He scowled, wiping a handful of dirt off of his Shirt & Tie.

The Inkling giving the orders glared directly at the others. "There's an encampment of Octarians ahead. They plan to strike soon, I know it… I need volunteers to come with me. ...I can't guarantee your survival, however."

That last note struck a particularly melancholy, uneasy chord in the air that left a lot of the Inklings rather… Uneasy, to be frankly obvious. However, ignoring the odds, a handful of soldiers, armed with their wooden sticks, nodded with the intent of fighting.

The commander, despite her moody temperament earlier, began to crack a smile. "We may win yet. Alright. The rest of you will stay here and guard the perimeter. Let's get moving!"

With that all said and done, she and a few other of the Inklings began making their move, already marching away from the campsite, their footsteps resounding for a good couple of yards until they started to vanish from eyesight and from earshot altogether. As the remaining squad at the campfire watched them leave, they had immediately set out on their own work.

Which in reality was not too different from what they were doing right now.

All they did for an hour was stand, watch over the fire, keep an eye out for hostiles, and so on and so forth. A barrier constructed of a few sacks filled with sand piled on each other did provide some cover, facing towards the same area the others had left for. One of the Inklings sighed, leaning back on a barrier.

"...So, how are you guys feeling?" She spoke up simply, staring at the dull gray sky.

There was a silence that followed, palpable with either an awkwardness or a business. Either that or they hardly cared, with the "dressed to impress" Inkling in his plain white suit tossing his helmet to the side, sitting under a shady tree.

Finally, after an eternity of silence, someone spoke up, albeit reluctantly, an Inkling tending to the fire. "...Tense."

"Oh." She said, staring out to the sky, "You think we'll be able to win?"

Again, there was no immediate answer. Frowning, she pushed off of the barrier, glaring at the group of soldiers.

"C'mon, talk to me." She begged with a frown, "This could be our very last time speaking to anyone, we might be splatted in our sleep."

"Yeah, that's the point."

The Inkling blinked, glancing from each of her comrades. They all looked mildly unnerved and distressed. None of them appeared to have spoken up. Eventually though, as she looked from person to person, she spotted a rather sullen looking Inkling sitting by a tree. She frowned at him.

"Pardon?" She asked, arching her eyebrow accusingly.

The one by the tree scoffed. "Why else would they send off countless young Inklings off to war? They obviously have no faith in us if they're willing to send off random people to their death."

If tensions had a limit, the Inkling by the tree just broke it. Murmuring arose between the other Inkling troops, filled with nervousness.

"Whoa. Might wanna ease up on the angst there, pal." She responded, smiling, "We'll make it out of this."

Her only response back was a grunt and a few smiles from the others, but other than that, it was back to silence. Scowling, she took her helmet, and slammed it on the earth, sending bits of dirt up. Once again, it caught the others' attention, and all eyes were on her.

"Seriously? Come on guys. Don't let a gremlin like him dissuade you." She scowled, hands on her hips.

The pessimistic Inkling responded with a less than friendly finger gesture.

"This is war, yes people die." She sighed, looking down towards the ground, "I don't know about you, but the commander had a point. Those Octarians aren't going to just fall over dead. We have a responsibility! Inkopolis needs us."

Adjusting his tie, the other Inkling responded again, "Ah yes, because I'm certain a handful of inexperienced rookies will lead the Inklings to victory in their 'time of need'."

However, despite his gripes, the others began to look up towards her. Glaring at the group, he scowled, hanging his head low, grumbling under his breath. Now that the spotlight was on her, she blinked, clearing her throat, continuing on under the gaze of her fellow soldiers.

"Look, getting a second speech is kinda boring. I get it. You know what's even more boring? Sitting around doing NOTHING." She explained, receiving nods of approval, "I'm sure you all must've stayed behind because you're scared. Well, I got news for you: All of us are scared. The commander could have been splatted."

Shuffling in the dirt commenced as the rest of the Inklings got up to their feet. They gripped the hilts of their weapons, readying the cane-lookalikes, a fierce motivation growing in their eyes.

"Even then, that leaves us as one of the last lines of defense. If we go down, Inkopolis is gonna follow. So," She lifted up her own weapon, the bamboo stick glinting in the sun, "We'll be an impenetrable forcefield. We WON'T let those darn Octarians through!"

As if spiraling upwards, the collective spirits of the troops skyrocketed, and the majority of them cheered. They immediately set out, making their way towards beneficial spots for battle. She felt somewhat accomplished, though there was one nagging issue. Swiveling over, the Inkling by the tree blew his tie up and down with the wind. Blinking, she made her way over, eventually crouching down to stare at him, only succeeding in getting him to avoid eye contact.

"...We could use all the help we could get, you know." She spoke up.

Instead of a retort or a taunt as she had come to expect from the guy she had met in the past couple of minutes, he simply sighed, adjusting his tie, albeit with little rhyme or reason, letting it fall back on the shirt in a less than fanciful fashion.

"I really doubt we'll win this." He frowned.

Despite the increasing doubt coming from the other Inkling, she smiled. "No worries. Look, if it helps, you can always stay at the rear… Uh… I never got your name."

A moment of nothing but the wind passed by again, carrying a silent message along as it flew by. His tentacles blew past slightly, and, finally, he spoke.

"...Phish." Phish admitted.

She grinned slightly, reaching her hand out. "Nice to **finally** meet you. My name's Ophi."

"...Ophi?" He asked, staring at her curiously.

"Short for 'Ophelia'. Weird, I know." She beamed somewhat sheepishly.

"...How is that short for Ophelia?" Phish asked, hardly warming up to "Ophi". In the slightest

They stood there for quite a while, not doing much except stare at each other, waiting for the other's response. Apparently, their actions were contagious, as the rest of the troops stopped and stared at the two. A few of them made passing remarks, possibly due to the fact that she and Phish were like awkward high school students in an army attempting to make a move.

"Uh, well Phish, how's about it?" Ophi asked, offering a hand to her newfound companion, "Any help we can get."

Phish glanced behind him, past the tree and grass fields. In the distance, a budding city could be seen being constructed brick by brick. A solitary building stood out from all the rest: A tower, painted green, steel reaching up into the sky. If he played his cards right, Phish probably would not need this troop of squids to survive. The Octarians might be merciful. He could always relocate.

On the other hand, there was Ophi. She was equipped with all of the necessities for war. A cap on her head, with the right clothes for sustaining ink armored from head to toe, a solitary necklace of some form of animal dangling from her neck. While he had quite the rocky start with her straight from the beginning, she seemed confident. A little too confident. But those hazel eyes of hers practically stared straight through him.

And that was uncomfortable in its own right.

"...Fine. I'll tend to the camp." Phish sighed, shaking his head, "But don't expect me to come after you if you fail."

She smiled, standing up straight. "Great. We'll be back soon. We're just going to find the others."

With a nod, Phish straightened himself up. She mirrored his nod, and turned about, looking to the others for affirmations that they were prepared. With that all said and done, they began taking off, Ophi at the helm as they walked, greeting more and more Inklings as they began warming up. Still, Phish was reluctant, looking down at his less than tidy suit. Shaking his head, he began standing up.

"Wow. They just leave one guy in charge of a whole camp? Harsh."

He bit his lip, and closed his eyes. The feeling of cold gun metal rested on the back of his head. Behind him, an Octoling adjusted the straps on her metallic armor, setting one boot by the side of the tree lackadaisically.

"Makes this operation a little too easy." She sighed.

In spite of the enemy being directly behind him, all Phish could do was sigh as well. "Yep."

* * *

AN: New Splatoon story? Even though the final Splatfest is around the corner? How crazy.

Eh, thanks for reading. This is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, to be continued.


	2. Phishy

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Phishy**

All throughout his life, Phish had a habit of loathing himself and the other Inklings around him. It was almost as if a curse had been placed upon him since birth that attracted misfortune in some shape or form. Sure, he had access to the technology and comforts of the budding, modern Inkling world, but it seemed as though that was the only actual comfort in his life that he could find.

His childhood was somewhat of a mystery. He hardly recalled parents of any kind. Even if he did have any, his memory was cloudy. The memories he did have were of other Inklings turning a blind eye as Phish struggled in the society Inklings had set. Inkling lives were all about popularity, and the more skilled you were, the better off you were in the world. He would struggle to find a job, proper housing, and a nice meal, but that was a whole different story, one of which he would deal with.

Now that there was a gun pointed at the back of his head, Phish briefly wondered if this was his saving grace or if it was just another low in his life. The wind whistled a bit, and, if he turned his head ever so slightly, he could just barely make out his assassin's face. Or, at least the mask covering it.

Purple eyes glared at the back of his head. A sheet of metal, or at least it looked like that, covered her face. The eyes, in fact, were not eyes at all, rather violet dots with which to protect one's irises. It was bizarre, but the oddities of the other race was lost on him once he remembered that there was a gun pointed at his head. He noticed the gun barrel move, rotating to constantly face him as she rotated about, eyeing him from head to toe.

"Hmm. You don't seem to be armed." She frowned.

Phish sighed, sneaking a glance towards a tent in the distance, where collection of bamboo poles laid, ink dripping out of the barrels. He watched as the weapon previously aimed at his face was lifted up, the Octoling still staring at him curiously.

"Honestly. Inklings can't seem to do anything right." She shook her head, "Especially battleware. Seriously, a suit? What, you going to take your enemies out to dinner?"

Phish scowled, looking down, then pretended to adjust his undone tie. "They had no spare wearable equipment."

The Octoling sneered, holstering her gun. "Sucks. Well, you don't seem to be too threatening."

With that said, she kept a careful eye as she advanced into the equipment tent, walking with her head turn up until the point where she finally made it to the first weapon. Bending down swiftly, still making sure Phish was up to no funny business, (he would shake his head whenever shot any suspicious looks) she would dig through the pile of bamboo based weaponry. As she eventually shifted into a violet octopus, Phish quickly considered his options. There was a possibility that he could make a break for it, but knowing the odd Inkling draft that landed him here in the first place, all he could do was scowl and hope for the best.

Eventually, she returned, one of those bamboozling weapons carried on her back, thanks to the straps on her armor. "Hmm. You really aren't doing much to stop me. Thanks for making this easy."

In response, Phish just glared back, blinking occasionally. His cool demeanor was betrayed by a few beads of sweat he could feel dripping down his neck. However, as he noticed her reaching for her weapon, he started panicking mentally. Sure, his life was not exactly glamorous, but just getting shot in the face?

" _That'd be just embarrassing."_ He thought to himself.

As the silicone weapon was removed from its leather sheath on the side of her hip, Phish decided it was a clear case of "do or die". Thinking fast, he slapped the weapon down on the ground, out of her grasp, where it fell right next to her feet. For a moment, Phish could breath a sigh of relief in knowing he had-

" _Wait."_ He had noticed the other ink propelling weapon on her back, "Shoot."

She stared at her weapon, now lying on the ground. Her hidden eyes glanced over the silver nozzle laying on the ground. A hand now lying on her hips, she glared at Phish for a while, the young Inkling staring back nervously, his hand slowly reverting back to its basic position. But all of a sudden, her mouth curled up into a smile, a very light smile, but an expression of amusement, nonetheless.

She leaned down, staring down at Phish. "You slapped my gun down."

Phish's eyes gravitated towards the oddly funnel-shaped gun on the floor with a violet container. As if gripped by a battle instinct, he reached for it. Still with one more weapon option, she retrieved the bamboo stick from her back that qualified as a weapon. The two spun towards one another with weapons aimed and ready. Of course, the fact that they were so close and the short range would result in the two clashing weapons, the ink guns launched to the side as a result. Blinking, Phish mentally facepalmed. With all weapons now lying to the side, he simply decided that perhaps physical attacks would-

"Gah!" Phish yelped, landing on the ground.

The Octoling stretched her hand, shaking her fist. "That was easy."

Rubbing his face, Phish grit his beak, raising his fist to retaliate. Unfortunately, no amount of mild teeth clenching can prepare for a full on-fight at random. His enemy, while taken by surprise, easily avoided the swing. And the one after that, and the one after that.

" _She's dodging everything!"_ Phish thought, and on a side note, _"This has got to be one of the most humiliating-"_

"You finished yet?" The Octoling asked, slamming him in his abdomen.

"Guh!" The Inkling fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He groaned, staring back up at her. She had already started dashing for one of the weapons laying at the side, the two placed in a small pile. Attempting to shake off the pain, Phish followed suit, attempting to take off. All throughout the fight, he noticed just how outclassed he was. Her speed, her strength, and her focus were practically seamless. Nevertheless, if Phish wanted to live to tell the tale, he would have to beat her to the punch, so to speak. Spying the Octarian's weapon, he noticed a collection of ink spewing out. The amount of ink held in its clear container was certainly enough.

Dashing towards the weapons, Phish dived towards them, switching into a blue squid, tentacles flapping in the wind as he traveled. Noticing her opponent take off the ground, his assassin switched into an octopus. The two traveled through the air, eventually landing on the ground, rolling back into a humanoid form. Throughout their tumble, they reached out and grabbed a weapon at random. As Phish paused, he shot his arm out and aimed. While he had finished rolling, it seemed that she had taken the bamboo weapon in the mad dash to find a weapon. She fumbled with it, attempting to aim.

But Phish had already set his sights, and pulled the trigger. "Gotcha!"

Violet ink was fired out of the nozzle, battering her body with the ooze. She gasped, not before the ground was covered with a violet that was similar to poison dripping on the ground. The remnants of her were nowhere to be seen after Phish finally let up on the trigger, the gun completely empty of any ink, easing his mind. With that horrific turn of events over, Phish breathed in a sigh of relief, sitting back near the puddle, setting the odd octopus weapon down.

Unfortunately for him, he neglected to realize that violet ink has no effect on violet Octolings. From behind, the form of an octopus rose from the purple abyss, eventually taking on the form of an Octoling garbed in armor and boots. She shook her head, wiping some ink off of herself. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Phish's shoulder. Of course, the sudden contact shocked Phish, whose eyes immediately gravitated back towards the gun. Upon finding that empty, he turned around, noticing his grave mistake. His opponent had a hold on him. She had a smirk on, and for a while, neither of them said anything.

Finally, the tension was broken with a laugh. Phish blinked, the laugh was hardly that of a villain nor the cackling of some insane person like he had expected, it was hearty and in good spirit, as if from a fellow player in a game.

"You might've actually splatted me if you used the right gun there, you know!" She grinned, patting him on the back.

His would be killer was patting Phish on the back. Sighing, he just nodded, staring down at the ground. Blinking, she stared at him, deciding to trudge out of the ink, until she bent down, face to face with Phish, who only barely noticed her, jolting up again.

"Alright, be honest." She frowned, "Were you even trying back there?"

Phish looked up, frowning at her. "I mean, I suppose… Yes? No..."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Thought so. Look man, I don't wanna be part of this war either. But with that attitude, you might as well be dragging the war on forever."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Phish asked.

Pursing her lips, she tilted her head. "If everyone just moped about after a loss or a win, there won't be any progress, will there?"

Laying his head down on his knees, he just shrugged. The Octoling simply grinned.

"I want this to end just as much as you do so I can go back home." The Octoling spoke up, leaning on the bamboo cane.

"...Huh." Phish murmured, "You tried to splat me back there though…"

Rolling her eyes, she snickered. "Yep."

Phish broke into a cold sweat yet again. His reaction proved much more hilarious from the octopus' point of view, and yet again, he was greeted with a bout of giggles.

"But hey, one splat of some random Inkling isn't going to end the war. Count yourself lucky." She finished, patting Phish on the back, walking off.

As if the entire skirmish had not happened at all, it left Phish in a daze. Thoroughly confused, all he could do was spin around, watching the Octoling leave.

"The name's Mai, by the way." She waved, kicking the cane away.

Frowning, all Phish could do was huff. "I didn't ask."

With that, she cracked a final smile. "Ah, but you were wondering. See you later, Mr. Tie."

With that being said, she disappeared into the grassy fields over the horizon, switching into an octopus and vanishing from sight. Blinking, Phish glanced down to the ground. The violet ink was already beginning to vanish from sight. Funnily enough, the two weapons from their miniature battle were left on the floor. Mai's octopus weapon and the bamboo cane. Frowning, he picked up the Octoling's weapon, looking over it. He sighed, carrying it in his hand, picking the other weapon up, walking back to the weapons tent with a less than cheerful demeanor.

Already Phish had his first skirmish in a war, and he could not tell if he had won or not.

* * *

AN: So, what would the act of foreshadowing while simultaneously providing a backstory for characters from another story be? Hmm. I'm going to have to look that up.

But aside from story complications, let's take a look at the reviews. Thanks write n wrong and Guest for reviewing!

I appreciate the optimism, write n wrong, hopefully a Splatoon update or sequel will breathe new life in the game, with the last Splatfest around the corner, it's certainly a tad sad, but it can only mean good things from here. Hopefully.

Thanks Guest, I'm glad I could provide a bit of uniqueness in this story, but quite a few other stories have explored the Great Turf War in one way or another. But thanks for noticing mine.

Thanks everybody for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to find a way to decipher a sensible time frame whence the Great Turf War took place to avoid any glaring canon plot holes, see you.


	3. Squad Field Day

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Squad Field Day**

"We're almost there." Ophi notified the group of squids behind here, nodding as she turned back around, staring out towards the great expanse of grass, her animal necklace dangling in the wind.

Phish's scuffle had finished, but Ophi herself was far from it. She and the two other squids at the camp whom she had chatted with throughout the long stretch had equipped themselves with their Bamboozler weapons, the titular bamboo canes. They were filled with their own respective ink, which happened to be blue. They trudged on, having not yet seen heads or tails of any other Inkling or enemy Octoling aside from each other.

Cocking her Bamboozler, she spun around, staring over the bamboo exterior, finding nothing but grass. "...See anything Portic?"

Blinking, one of the other Inklings looked out at the fields, emerald eyes staring out at the wild expanses. As if he needed a better look, he stood up, tilting his helmet back, standing up tall. He was not unlike a tree, with his lean stature and tan skin, thin tentacles akin to that of branches. For a while, he pivoted around in his spot.

"Hmm…" Portic hummed, narrowing his eyes.

"What is it?" Ophi asked, glancing up from her aim.

One of Portic's legs lifted up into the air. It remained suspended behind him as he stared out into the great beyond. The other male Inkling that had tagged along simply grunted, finding a newfound interest in the sky as he awaited a response. The thin Inkling pursed his lips, and, for a moment, his eyes lit up. Then faltered almost immediately, his expression growing lame.

"What?" Ophi spoke up, eagerly awaiting his response.

Placing a finger on his mouth, he frowned, his other hand on his hip. "Huh. I thought I saw something move in the fields of grass…"

Ophi blinked, then scrambled for her weapon, cocking the long gun towards the grass.

"But then I took a closer look." Portic stated, setting his other leg down, shaking his head, "Silly me! It's just the wind rustling the grass!"

The would-be sniper sighed, letting her Bamboozler rest on the hill, staring up at Portic rather irritably. "That's not helping Portic. Be serious."

Pouting, Portic shook his head. "Now now! You were the one who said that we should look up and be positive. After all, stress is the number one cause of anxiety!"

The other Inkling at the side, sitting on the incline of the hill, staring up at the clouds mumbled something. Portic cocked an eyebrow, staring at the other Inkling curiously, who simply glanced away without a word, finding a new interest in the grass altogether.

"What was that?" The thinner Inkling asked, leaning in with one hand placed by his ear, "You think that Ophi should ease up and stop being so uptight? Besides, if you think otherwise, tell me I'm wrong!"

He just turned on his side away from Portic's probing eyesight, laying his head down on the side of his arms, his thick tentacles serving as a cushion in itself. Frowning, the other Inkling just shook his head, glancing at Ophi, who continued aiming in anticipation of an enemy, biting her lip. The sky grew gray above them, the male Inkling lying on the soft ground keeping an eye on the clouds, scanning their movements.

"...What's up Rinse?" Ophi asked all of a sudden, eyes also gravitating towards the sky, "Think it might rain?"

"Rinse", as he was referred to, pursed his lips, glancing up at the sky, studying the clouds. "...Stratoculumbus."

"Hmm?" Ophi blinked, glancing back at him.

"See how low the clouds are?" He pointed out, the lumps of white hovering overhead, "That and their shape… They've gotta be stratoculumbus."

Portic furrowed his brow. "You mean like the thunder ones?"

"Cumulonimbus. Those are the clouds you might be thinking of." He closed his eyes, "These ones are harmless, unless you dislike shade."

"Huh, smart guy." Ophi commented, turning back to the fields.

Rinse simply shrugged, turning back on his side in a proud, sheepish fashion. "It's nothing, just paying attention to the sky."

Portic nodded. "Darn right it's nothing. What's so special about watching clouds?"

The male Inkling next to him frowned. "Nature is an integral part of life. Without it, we would not exist. It's helpful to look out for her warnings."

Shrugging, Portic just sat back on the hill, yawning. "If you say so."

All of a sudden, Ophi stuck her hand up into the sky, hissing a warning for silence. Immediately, the other two stuck to the ground like glue, all three Inklings staring out towards the grasslands. Ophi kept a careful eye on both the trigger and the grass. The others stared at her, frowning, whilst simultaneously gazing out to the hills and flatgrass ahead of them, searching for any signs of movement or colors. Waiting a while, they finally found what she had spotted, tension building in their minds. Octotroopers. What appeared to be sentient octopus tentacles patrolled along, large purple lips scrutinizing the details of the grass, yellow eyes staring to and fro. The blue tentacled squadron shuffled back uneasily, keeping an eye on the suspicious creatures.

"...So what's the plan, Stan?" Portic asked, keeping a hand on his own Bamboozler weapon, glaring holes at the Octarian forces.

"There's at least a dozen of 'em." Ophi pointed out, "Doesn't look good. Plus, I don't like the look of… 'those'."

She pointed directly under the Octotroopers. While under normal circumstances, tentacles by themselves would probably just flop on the ground, these strange creatures hovered just above the ground on platforms of sorts, violet ink spewed out of a hose attached to the front, creating a path of purple wherever they tread. Rinse tensed up, gritting his beak.

"They're making a mess." Portic commented, "Lucky them. That's their job?"

Ophi stopped and stared, eyes narrowing. "I dunno… It seems weird. Why would they aimlessly spew ink everywhere?"

"..." Rinse glared at the enemies, raising his weapon, shuffling up the hill ever so slowly.

"I know right! That's stupid!" Portic said, bobbing his eyebrows up and down, "Almost as stupid as… Uh… Rinse charging in?"

His female teammate's eyes shot open, glancing to the side quickly. Her silent companion had left a sizable impression in the grass. Redirecting her attention to the field, already she could see a large Inkling charging towards the Octarians, wind blowing his thick tentacles from underneath his helmet, his bamboo weapon aimed with a fierce accuracy. Watching from the sidelines, Portic and Ophi's mouths gaped in awe, staring at their reckless comrade as he commenced his attack. Smirking, Portic, grabbing his gun by the nozzle, began charging in as well, leaving a bewildered Ophelia behind to watch, now doubly as shocked. The shock was quickly replaced with a mixture of fear and frustration, and an irritated scowl.

"Uh… O-Okay then. No plan." She shook her head.

Taking aim, Rinse shot a line of ink towards an Octotrooper, knocking him clean off of his mobile perch. The single blast alerted the others, who spun around, aiming the platform nozzles towards them. Blots of fuschia were launched through the sky. Rinse grit his teeth, switching into a squid, dodging the spheres of ink, retaliating with another Bamboozler blast, practically blowing the octopus off into the great beyond and back, at least through the octopus's point of view. As he brawled and tackled the octopuses, Portic began sneaking up, still wielding his bamboo as if it were a staff.

An expression of glee dawned on his face as he began winding up for the pitch. Staring straight ahead, he set his sights on one of the Octotroopers, grinned wildly, and swung, launching the weapon through the air, where it whirled through the sky, eventually coming down to strike his teammate. Watching the stick smack into Rinse's head prompted him to take cover. He frowned, briefly wondering if his attack had been caught in the wind. His thinking was cut short when he saw a red tentacle with its face pounded in fall flat on the floor next to him.

"Good one there!" Portic called out, staring back at the grass with the purest of intentions.

Rinse huffed, glancing towards the side. One of the octopuses stared at him with a blank stare, which he in turn answered with a glare. It was at that point when they had decided that perhaps retreat may be a better option. Stuttering about, they began to move away on their platforms, neglecting to shut off the hose nozzles, which were still spewing more violet ink all over the grass. Eye twitching, Rinse began sprinting, picking up his companion's dropped Bamboozler, (with Portic nervously hiding in the background) and charged towards the remaining Octotrooper helplessly sliding away, took both of the bamboo weapons, and swung. Over the hills the Octotrooper flew, angrily hissing back at the Inklings as it vanished over the large green mounds of flora.

Lowering the Bamboozlers, Rinse crossed his arms, staring at the ground. The once perfectly natural look had been sullied with a hue of violet. Shaking his head, he glanced back towards Portic, who attempted to blend in with the grass. Which is easier said than done when you have a color like the sea in an ocean of green. Walking over towards him, Rinse hefted up one of the Bamboozlers, stopping just above him. Portic switched back into an Inkling form, glancing at the most intimidating sight.

"Here. You must've dropped it in the fight." Rinse said, offering the fallen weapon to him.

Grabbing the bamboo stick, Portic gave Rinse a thumbs-off as the heftier Inkling began ascending the hills, Portic grinning like a madman.

"Thanks Rinse!" Portic smiled, _"I didn't get a swing, though…"_

Atop the hills, Ophi stared at the fields of violet, as if the battle had still been raging on. Her pupils were about as small as the dots on her tentacles. For a moment, she had not realized her companion had ascended to her resting place. However, she finally did so, as Rinse crouched down to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulders. Before he could say or do anything, Ophi acted purely out of instinct and surprise, by pulling the trigger of her weapon. A blast of blue launched out of the Bamboozler, where it soon headed for Portic, who dusted himself free of any grass debris. As the shot travelled, it sunk into the earth, where it stained it a fine blue, creating a line which led from her to her companion.

"Oh!" Portic blinked, staring up at the hill, "Nice try Ophi, but if you wanna fight me, get down here yourself!"

Ophi immediately began shaking her head, to which Portic frowned. "No, no thanks."

"Sheesh, it's just a joke," Portic spoke up, climbing up the miniature river, "We can't splat each other either."

"...Right." Ophi rubbed the back of her head.

"...Speaking of fights, I didn't see you assisting us, Ophi." Rinse spoke up, lying down, staring at the sky.

She turned towards Rinse, placing her bamboo weapon down sheepishly. "I… Didn't want to add to the mess? You looked like you were doing great without me."

"..." Rinse nodded, staring up at the clouds, "Our ink can fade. I don't know about theirs."

Ophi blinked, crossing her arms, glancing towards the violet ink. Climbing up next to them, Portic took up a seat by the two.

He grinned at the two. "Eh, first day of war and we've already beat back a squad of goons! Up high!"

Raising his hand in the air, he glanced from Rinse to Ophi, who just stared at the clouds in the sky, sometimes tending to their weapons.

"Yeesh." Portic lowered his hand, shaking his head, "Didn't realize that sticks get more love here than actual Inklings. If this was the warm reception I would be given, I would have rather stayed with the other guy."

"Hey!"

Glancing back, the group sat up quickly, taking aim. Halting just before he hit the slope of the hill, Phish raised his hands harmlessly, a holstered weapon at his side.

"Ah, see? So friendly! He's willing to abandon his post to see us!" Portic spoke up, "Unlike you grumps."

Ophi simply shook her head, pushing away the taller Inkling. "What's up Phish?"

Phish stared back for a second through the empty fields, looking side to side cautiously. "Alright, so I was guarding the camp,"

"An enemy force is headed there now?" Rinse asked from his stationary position.

"Huh? No, nothing like that, there was this one girl- She and I battled- I think I won?" Phish frowned.

"Calm down there." Portic shook his head, "We'll talk about it from this spot where you can see where we massacred a bunch of octopuses."

"..." Phish gave them a face that practically shouted, "Okay-did-I-miss-something-vitally-important?".

"We'll fill you in, as long as you fill us in." Ophi spoke, Phish nodding, already attempting to climb the hill.

"Yeah! Like, what's with the suit?" Portic asked, offering a hand to the other Inkling.

"It's a Shirt and Tie." Phish corrected him.

"Eh, whatever. So, you were attacked, huh…"

As he reached the top of the hill, the two parties, if you can count Phish himself as one, discussed their encounters, all while the violet ink in the background remained stagnant, blue ink drying up nearby.

* * *

While the squadron of squids discussed their battle endeavors, most of them at least, far across the plains of grass, there laid another battle altogether. Squid against octopus, an all out shootout on the plains bordering the flowering city of squids in the background. Staring out to the battle was one Octoling, standing elegantly poised, glaring down at the battle. She was soon approached, the Octoling turning around towards an approaching group of Octotroopers. Who were in somewhat of a sorry state.

"...The scouting mission didn't go well?" She frowned, glancing down at the Octotroopers.

They just nodded solemnly. She sighed, shaking her head.

"I apologize." She hung her head just as well, "Perhaps I should have accompanied you. Inklings may be without honor, but they certainly do have skill."

As she said that, she did not take her eyes off of the battle. Squids continually hopped in and out of ink, dodging attacks and reloading their bamboo sticks, which they used to frighteningly effectiveness. Attacking back and forth, the group of squids hardly noticed the shadow looming over them.

"...Any sign of M-41?" She asked the small squad of tentacles, which shook their head with an air of sadness, distressing the other Octoling more, "...Alright. After this attack, we leave to find her."

Staring up, the Inklings stopped hopping, staring at the shadow. A metallic groan and creak sounded off, just before a laser trained itself on the group below. With that done, the Octoling began walking off through the fields, listening to the cries of panic and cheers that sounded off with the sound of an explosion, to which she smiled.

" _Our troubles will be over very soon."_ She had thought to herself, it was the first day in the war, and the weapons in their arsenal seemed like they could decide the favor of the battle from the very start.

* * *

AN: And done. Whew, that's another chapter down. Wonder if we'll get more exposition for the Great Turf Wars someday, it might render this story obsolete, but it would sure be something.

Theoretical canonicity aside, time to get to the reviews. Thanks Ultrapyre for reviewing!

It's probably a recurring theme going on here, but I'd like to think that the later generation would inherit quite a few things from their parents aside from their basic personalities. You are definitely not off on that observation, either.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, itchy itch itch.

Darn mosquitoes.


	4. Follow the Leader

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Follow the Leader**

The Octoling commander, with her Splatoon of Octotroopers idly drifting by on their little platforms journeyed through the hills, weapons ready to blast any unfortunate squid that came their way at a moment's notice. Through hills and grasslands they roamed, with the Octoling at the head growing increasingly worried, glancing around from hill to beyond. She hummed to herself, toting the Octoshot gun by her side, finger hovering above the trigger just in case a smart guy decided to try something funny. Unfortunately for her itchy trigger finger, she and her squadron had seen no enemies of the sort of which to shoot, which was pretty much the whole reason any of them decided to leave the safety of their encampment.

For about an hour or so, they trekked through the grassy fields, the Octotroopers spreading violet ink as they hovered across the ground. Staring at the skies, the Octoling in charge could not help but stare at the clouds cast just above her,, treading through the empty lands full of grass. Eventually, she stopped, glanced around, the other Octarians halting just behind her.

"Hmm." Glancing around, she sat down, her Octoshot at her side.

"...Commander?" One of her Octotrooper companions spoke up curiously.

She turned back with a straight face, staring at the Octotrooper in question. The formation broke immediately, Octarians clearing the area aside from one curious Octotrooper. She walked up to the one remaining Octotrooper, leaning down at the smaller octopus creature. He shuffled uncomfortably on his platform, attempting to keep a nervous staring contest with the ground suddenly.

"Hypothetical question. If your friends were to fall off of a cliff, would you?" The Octoling commander asked, leaning in as if she only wanted to unnerve the Octotrooper even more than he already was.

With a question like that, the only answer she got was silence. Beads of violet sweat dripped down the Octotrooper as she gave him the evil eye. Even through the barrier of steel that was the Octoling Goggles she wore on her face, the Octotrooper could practically feel her irises tearing into him. All he managed was a weak cough, glancing away yet again.

"The answer is obviously a no." She spoke up, patting him on the head, "Why should you delve down into the frigid waters?"

The other Octarian troops ducking behind the hills simply nodded and murmured in agreement.

"However." She shouted, the Octotroopers edging closer curiously, "If we are to win this war, we may have to take risks. That isn't to say that we will fall and drown. But rather, prevent it from happening in the first place. Finding M-41 will not be easy. But in war, sacrifices are necessary"

That reasoning only spooked the Octotrooper. He shivered, gasping in and out as if to calm down his beating hearts.

She turned back to the Octotrooper, leaning in. "And guess where we sit now? Two parties, brawling against each other. There are going to be casualties, regardless of how careful we are."

The reality slowly began sinking in. Panic erupted, and suddenly paranoid Octotroopers aimed their weapons to and fro, looking for the sign of any colored tentacles. Shaking her head, the Octoling whistled, attracting all attention to her once again.

"Alright, now with that being said, who still wants to help me find one Octoling?" She asked, rubbing her hands together.

A few of them just stared at each other. Reaching a mutual conclusion, they began scuttling off on their mobile platforms, nervously. Behind them, the Octoling simply shrugged, walking through the hills, the other Octarians just shooting them apologetic stares as they followed her through the grass. As the others retreated, they stopped suddenly, watching as their commander slowly faded into the distance, the Inkling city looming over the horizon like a terrible reminder that anything could go wrong.

Shaking her head, the Octoling turned towards the remaining octopus squadron at her side. She was somewhat surprised to see that only a single cephalopod besides herself remained. A lone Octotrooper shivered, she recognized him as the lone, curious but stared up bravely, keeping his tentacle on the controls to keep it steady.

The commander smiled. "Glad you could tag along. Come on, before they get through the others."

She started walking away with a jolly old jog as if she were a school teacher who had gotten over with a lecture. Before the Octotrooper could argue, he simply sighed, shaking his head. Driving his platform, he followed her away. As he drove, he neglected to notice the sound of splashing in the distance as he and the commander strode off to find their other Octoling companion.

* * *

"An Octoling?" Ophi asked, sitting on an interchangeable hill, "So, someone like us, except...?"

"Something like that. Shooed her away, but I'm not sure for how long." Phish sighed, shaking his head.

The squadron of three sat on an indistinguishable mound of dirt and grass, with Rinse staring at the sky yet again whilst Ophi and Phish exchanged stories of war, bamboo weapons at their side. Portic, meanwhile, was frolicking through the grass with the enthusiasm of a snail, waiting for them to finish their tales of combat as he circled around, whistling some tune to pass the time.

"There's no one guarding the camp, then." Ophi sighed, staring off back into the distance.

Phish bit his lip. "Right."

"Well, if that's the case, we'd better get back." She said, getting up to her feet, dusting off her raggedy uniform.

"Hold on!"

Staring down the side of the hill, Ophelia noticed Portic scrambling up the hill, switching to a squid to hop up the grass onto the top. Reverting back to his regular Inkling form, he shook his head. (as well as gasp for air from that intense frolicking)

"We're leaving for the camp?! Come on, really? With a hundred octopuses probably charging towards us? We should be out there, looking out, beating some octopuses, not stay here and wait." Portic frowned, crossing his arms.

"Well, isn't that our job?" Ophi asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

"...Yeah, but it's a dumb job. Now that I think of it, why did they leave four teenagers in charge of a camp? Why are we the ones who have to deal with all of this? Is the Earth flat?" Portic asked, rattling off question after question.

Shaking her head, Ophi leaned back on the grass. "Let me stop you right there. The commander and the others are out there right now. They're fighting on the front lines, we are the reserves. If you wanted to go, you should've gone when you had the chance!"

He simply pouted and held his head high, Ophi crossing her arms.

"...Does it matter what shape the Earth is?" Rinse arched an eyebrow, glaring at Portic suspiciously.

"We're getting off topic guys. The point is, we just need to hold our ground here until they return. Nothing else." Ophi spoke firmly, closing her eyes in a "matter-of-fact" way.

When she opened her eyes, she met Phish's brown irises, which blinked, staring behind her. No one else. Glancing to the side, she noticed two Inklings; one lean, one practically a statue, walking off. With a smile, Portic glanced towards her, gave her a curt wave, and went along his merry way with Rinse following shortly behind. Frowning, Ophi stood up.

"That's the second time today. This better not be a recurring theme." She grit her beak, "C'mon Phish."

Holstering her Bamboozler, the female squad member slid down the hill, scraping the grass lightly. Walking off, she followed the other two, albeit somewhat reluctantly. However, even more reluctant than Ophi was the only other troop in her team, Phish. Turning around, she scowled, the other Inkling sticking to the hill like glue.

"Phish, you too?" She asked, hands on her hip.

"...Someone needs to stay behind." He shrugged, looking in the other direction.

"Ugh. Right," Ophi shook her head, walking off, "But if you do spot another octopus, you'd better find us."

Finished, Ophi continued her descent down the hill, grumbling something incoherent. The three of them climbed over hill and yonder, ditching the Inkling. Sighing, Phish laid back on the hill, staring up at the sky above. Blue backgrounds, white clouds, and an Octoling who-

"JEEZ!" Phish yelped, falling down the hill, his blue tentacles getting stained with green as an Octoling watched, tapping her finger on the grass.

"Are you done?" She asked, tilting her head as he reached the bottom, one hand placed on her cheek.

"Agh…" Phish rubbed the back of his head, cocking one eye up angrily, "Mai?!"

Mai smiled sweetly. "Aw, you remembered my name! How sweet is that?"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, rising to his feet.

"Well, I was supposed to splat any Inkling defense I came across." She began, staring down at Phish, "But something came up, and amidst the chaos I lost my gun."

"Oh for- Here, have it back." Phish sighed, reaching at his side, pulling out the Octoshot.

"No, keep it. Just- Just try and keep it." She waved them off.

Phish's eyes narrowed. "...What are you doing?"

"I mean, since you seem to be so fond of it, I think you should keep it." Mai put simply.

"You literally just said that you lost your gun." Phish deadpanned, hand still offering the Octoshot.

"Mm-hm, but if you gave it back to me, who's to say that I won't splat you immediately?" She asked with an eyebrow cocked.

"You will, probably." He grumbled, holstering the Octoshot of determinable ownership, "Seriously, WHY are you here?"

"Okay, so I just saw your friends head off, right?" She pointed out, over in the general direction they had taken, "That leads to one of the Octarian encampments. Nothing huge, like the headquarters itself."

Phish scoffed. "They're going to get themselves krilled."

"...I was just getting to that." She blinked, frowning, "But it doesn't look like you care about their well being."

He simply shrugged. That seemed to amuse her slightly, a smile creeping up on her face.

"Mr. Edgelord over here. So, you seriously don't care about the lives of others?" She asked.

Scowling, Phish glared at her incredulously. "What? No! But if they're going to do something stupid, then why should I follow them?"

The Octoling's smile practically dropped down into the depths of discomfort just from hearing that line. Pouting, she leaned on the side of the hill, only confusing Phish more when that was her answer. The male Inkling frowned, glaring at her for quite some time.

"...Can you stop being ambiguous and just give it to me straight?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Alright," She cleared her throat, "Go after them."

"What?!" His eye twitched, "No!"

"Okay, then you go after them and help them." She spoke simply, folding her arms, laying her head down.

After that strange exchange, all Phish could manage was a sour expression. Try as he might, he had difficulty gauging what exactly Mai was playing at. She was technically his enemy. He was technically at war with her. But both of them were technically passive in terms of their fights. His first fight had ended up in both of them surviving. So there they were, standing under the blue sky, Phish with a weapon at his side, his enemy disarmed in front of him, prime for shooting where she laid in the grass.

Funnily enough, the thought of shooting her had not crossed his mind, only that she was acting absolutely ridiculous.

"...You really want to be in the right." He stated, glowering at her with crossed arms.

She shrugged, switching into an octopus, face staring directly upwards. "What can I say? I'm an altruistic spirit at heart."

" _Yeah, that's debatable."_ Phish thought to himself, shaking his head, "Whatever. I'll find them."

Though he had just a bare idea of where Ophelia, Portic, and Rinse could have skedaddled off to, walking across the lumps in the fields, leaving Inkopolis, the camp, and Mai in the dust. The Octoling blinked, switching back into a humanoid form, grinning. She got up, slid down the hill, and followed behind from a distance, the two of them trekking off into the distance, with naught a concern for the camp, nor their lives, as one grumbled while the other held a impish smile.

They went on, convinced that it would be at least interesting to watch.

* * *

"Hmm! You know, from up here I can see quite far." Portic stated, swerving his head around, "This is great! It's like a watchtower up here."

"Glad you're enjoying it." Rinse spoke up to Portic, grunting as he walked.

The lighter Inkling nodded. "Yeah. Watch out octopuses, we have the UPPER HAND!"

Portic said, as he stood on top of Rinse's shoulders, the heftier Inkling holding him up, staring down at the grass below. Behind them, Ophelia dragged along, still cautious, and still irritated at the two. Eventually, Portic swung around, catching her face in his sights.

"Whoa! Stop right there, soldier!" Portic shouted, patting Rinse on the head, who halted immediately, "Grumpy Inkling alert, six o'clock!"

"Knock it off Portic." Ophi sighed, staring at the ground.

"Look, we've been over this. Rinse and I are just going to scout out the area ahead, if you don't want to come, just hang back with Phish." Portic spoke up, swiveling back, pretending to use his hands as binoculars.

Ophi could not help but give the lightest smile she could muster in face of the goofball. "Not if you're going to continue making a bigger target of yourself."

"Nah, look, this gives ME the tactical advantage." The other Inkling told her, pulling out his Bamboozler, looking over the wooden barrel, glancing about the fields, "This is the most optimal position I could possibly be in!"

Despite her mood and stance on the other two venturing forward, Ophi could not suppress a giggle as Portic met a branch facefirst, which was quite the formal approach for a pair who had just met. Stopping in front of the tree which found a liking to his teammate, Rinse blinked, staring ahead. There laid a thicket, light with trees and a few shrubs, but a thicket nonetheless, doing enough to obscure the way ahead. He grunted, catching his squadmate as he fell from grace and almost onto the ground, setting him on the grass.

"...So many trees in the middle of an endless plain." He murmured, staring at the plants.

"What? Is there something wrong with that aside from the fact that they're in the way?" Portic grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"It isn't unheard of." Rinse told him, hardly taking his eyes off of the trees.

"Freakin'... Rinse, I am going to think of you as a living vegetable if you keep making those observations." The other male Inkling sighed, arms at his side.

Ophi hummed, staring up at the tree tops, thick platforms of leaves offering shade. "Huh…"

"We can use this as cover." Rinse spoke up, "If there are more Octarians, then this is a good spot to stay put and observe."

"Does that mean no more standing on your back?" Portic inhaled sharply through his beak, "I dunno… Kinda a deal breaker."

"...You can sit in a tree if you like as long as you don't bother any wild animals." Rinse told him, to which Portic's eyes lit up at.

"Alright, makeshift treehouse, here I come!" Portic spoke up, pounding his fist down on an open palm.

Ophi felt a bead of sweat drip down her face as she watched the spritely Inkling climb up into the canopies above them, rustling the trees as he crawled through them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ophi asked, glancing around.

Rinse turned to her, giving her a look that seemed as though he would react explosively. For a moment, Ophi had wondered if she had offended him in anyway, and was ready to point out the pros of squatting in leaves.

However, his response practically took the wind out of her sails. "...If this is too much for you, you can always hang back at the camp."

A rustling in the trees followed, with Portic popping out of the canopy. "Ooh! Goodness me, I could feel that from here!"

Ophi frowned, glaring at Rinse, who simply shrugged in response. Stomping over to a nearby tree, she grappled the nearest branch and started climbing, Portic cackling as he reentered the brush. Through all of their shenanigans, a pair of orbs lit up in the shade of the small forest while they crawled about the small collection of trees, glaring back at them menacingly.

* * *

AN: HMM FORESHADOWING EH?

But in all seriousness, I'm having quite the blast with writing this story. Most of my other stories have little cohesive plots that are mostly strung together by random action. And that's all fine and good, but I feel as though this is actually my first attempt at writing a story that has a grain of sense to it.

Well, in the context of Splatoon at least.

But we can talk about that another time, what about reviews? Thanks Ultrapyre and Guest for reviewing!

Right, I still agree with Ultrapyre on the whole, "satire on wars" type of deal. But I also believe that this war, no matter how silly in concept it is, still seems as though it could have some serious themes and implications if it tried. I mean, just look at those disturbing noises someone found in Octo Valley when beating the final boss, it makes sense that not all interactions with squids and octopuses are gonna be 100% safe, and while I don't believe you were implying that entirely, it still helps to have a bit of a sane base to work off of that spirals into a bit of crazy gameplay, right?

Guest, or at least the recurring guest, I appreciate that idea. I doubt what I am going to do here is going to mirror the exact actions of Splatoon because Phish, Ophi, and everyone else that isn't a direct character from the game is definitely not canon, so the "unplugging of the Octoweapons" may be a little more complicated. Or it could push it out of the way altogether, who knows? I like that you believe that stories like mine can help fuel the fanbase to keep it chugging along, I appreciate postive outlooks like that. Certainly helps.

Well, that's all for today, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, it's midnight and I should go to sleep. See you.


	5. Wood, Steel, Ink

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Wood, Steel, and Ink**

Walking is a healthy and common way of exercising. It stretches your legs and helps your heart rate, plus the added benefit of working off anything you eat provided you walk long enough.

But having Mai tag along made Phish feel as though this was the longest, most arduous walk in his life. He was rather close to simply turning the Octoshot on his head and pulling the trigger, because the amount of jabs the Octoling following him from "a respectable distance" was akin to that of a pro boxer. In reality, he had not walked far from the hills nor had Mai been running her mouth off for the entire trip, but each step upwards on a slope was tedious, as a single statement could pretty much irritate him for the next few minutes, making it a continuous barrage of unfavorable conversation topics. Finally, it seemed as though he was about to give in as Mai provided commentary on his clothing.

"Like, c'mon man. That can't be the only shirt you have. And why does the tie have so many fishes on it?" Mai asked, tousling the tie above Phish's shirt from behind, "You have a thing for them? Find them cute?"

Phish rolled his eyes, glancing back as he walked. "Mai, let me stop you right there. You have said plenty the past six minutes; you've mocked my choice of attire, somehow insulted my taste in music without an inkling of what I like. But for the love of Cod, can you just-"

"Stop!" Mai called out suddenly, Phish halting on a dime.

"What?!" Phish called out irritably, "Gah!"

Being headbutted by an Octoling was never on his agenda, and quite frankly, never will be again for Phish. As he fell to the ground, Mai's head slamming him in his gut, his anger was replaced with a mild confusion: Was the injury caused solely from her head, or from her goggles? Nevertheless, it stung, both getting slammed to the terra firma below combined with her head practically digging into his abdomen was extremely painful. Hitting the ground, he groaned, a suddenly diligent Mai glancing around frantically.

She hummed, staring over at the fields using her goggles, blinking as everything zoomed in from her perspective as she twisted a small knob on the side of her goggles. "Oh. Nevermind, just a bird."

Standing up, she stretched her arms in the air, yawning plainly as if nothing happened. An irritated Phish got to his feet, placing one hand on her shoulder, spinning her around angrily. She simply gave him a regular old innocent smile, placing one hand on her cheek.

"Coast is clear, pal." She spoke up in a sing-song like voice.

Phish shook his head. "Did you really have to slam me into the ground, though?"

She simply grinned, removing her goggles for the sole purpose of rolling her eyes at him. "Yes. Trust me, if there was ever an enemy sniper glaring in this direction, that could mean the difference between life and death."

He scoffed, standing back up straight, closing his eyes. "Oh, you saving me from a sniper. That'll be the- OOGH."

Once more, Mai proved to be quite the quarterback, tackling Phish down to the floor, knocking the wind out of him yet again. Irritated, Phish attempted to push her off until something caught his eye. Looking straight up, a violet laser danced above him, searching for something. Sweating, he glanced at Mai, lying by his side, a devious smirk on her face. She simply shrugged, whistling after a job well done. Frowning, he waited, watching the laser eventually disappear, getting up to his feet the moment it vanished. Glancing over the hillside, she stared out, adjusting her goggles somewhat. In the distance, an octopus on a platform, a rifle attached to the top aimed down the sights, the octopus in the distance seemingly bored out of his mind.

Motioning towards Phish, she switched into an octopus, sliding through the small grass on the hills. Blinking, the male Inkling lowered himself towards the ground, slowly switching into a blue squid, crawling among the dirt stealthily. It was somewhat tense for the young squid, who grit his teeth, moving forward constantly for fear of the laser catching up to him. Like a snake, he slithered through the grass nervously. Eventually, as he wriggled, he bumped into something.

"The sniper left about eight minutes ago, you know." Mai spoke up, using the tip of her boot to push Phish down the slope he attempted to ascend. "Good work, you managed to not die."

Switching back into his regular Inkling form in his clothes, he frowned, staring up at the Octoling. "...Gee, thanks."

"Hey, that's what friends do." She shrugged, beginning to walk off. "Now c'mon, I wanna see where your other Inkling pals are."

Frowning, Phish got to his feet, and began following her. "Fine. But we aren't friends."

Mai stopped for a minute, Phish giving her a less than trustworthy glare from behind. The wind, ever the dutiful companion, covered the silence with its whistles.

All she did in response was chuckle, glancing back at him with a grin. "I spared you twice now. Two times you could have been completely destroyed, two times I saved you. I think me being your friend is the least painful fate."

Feeling as though she had gotten her point across, she started her trek once more, only to be stopped. "You didn't let me finish."

Blinking, Mai removed her Octoling Goggles, cocking an eyebrow at Phish curiously, rubbing the goggles free of any dust. He sighed, glancing away towards the ground for a second, adjusting his tie very slightly.

"...I have no idea who you are, and I have no idea what your true intentions are." Phish spoke up, the Octoling beginning to open her mouth to interject, "You just show up, try to shoot me, and that's that?"

Crossing her arms, Mai smirked. "I take it you'd rather have it so that one of us died?"

Frowning, Phish sighed, staring at the ground. "We're not friends," He repeated, "At best, we're acquaintances, and at worst, you're plotting to splat me while my back is turned."

Hearing that made Mai frown as well. "Not very trusting, huh?"

Ignoring her, Phish continued. "I don't know anything about you other than the fact that you are female and an octopus."

"And my wondrous personality? What about that?" She winked with a smirk, leaning on the side of the hill.

Without a word, Phish deadpanned at her behavior, standing up straight. Walking up the hill and past Mai, he looked up briefly. Blinking, he noticed something bizarre in the distance. Attempting to stare, he found that it was significantly difficult considering that it looked like a blur of colors contrasting with the green and blue. As he grit his teeth, attempting to make out the commotion in the distance, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Before he could turn around, he found that a hand offering Octoling Goggles to him was in front of him. Arching an eyebrow, he turned around, his Octoling acquaintance's irises staring at him, offering the goggles to the Inkling with a frown.

"Well?" She asked, poking him with the metal mask.

Staring down at the goggles, Phish gripped them somewhat reluctantly, staring back at the Octoling. She tilted her head, sighing at him.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it back. But you seem to like stealing my stuff." She shrugged.

Blinking, Phish shook his head quickly. "No, no. I'll return this. ...Thanks."

"Mm." She hummed, lying back on the hill.

The metal mask now in his hands, Phish raised it to his face, staring through the violet lights. On the other end, the obscure blur soon appeared as though it were clearing up. Across the hills, Phish seemed to notice some activity. Three Inklings, he counted. Among a thicket, there were three familiar Inklings standing off in the distance, all wearing helmets atop their noggins. Out of the forest ahead, he could just barely notice a glint out of the corner of the trees. Frowning, he pulled the goggles away from his face, turning around to the Octoling, depositing it by her side. She nodded, taking the strap and pulling it over her head, pulling it down further towards her neck, where she let it dangle by the back.

Walking up the mounds of dirt, he began to break into a small jog, before Phish himself was interrupted by a, "Hey, hold on! You're not leaving me behind."

Yet again, it seemed as though Mai was hindering his progress. "Mai, I think it would be best if you would stay back. You know, just in case the others-"

"What? And miss out on watching the fight?" She said, laughing, "In your dreams."

He froze on the terrain, peering back curiously. "Wait, what?"

While Mai had spoken up, she had her eyes set on the other Inklings, frowning. "Yeah. They should really get out of those trees."

"...Why, what's going to happen in the trees?" Phish asked cautiously.

The earth shaking beneath them began to give him an idea. Glancing over into the distance, though the earth shook rampantly, he could make out the others just barely. It seemed as though Ophi and Portic could definitely feel the shaking as well, with Portic stranded in the canopy of the trees shivering. Rinse appeared to be more confused than anything, and while the tremors continued, he simply put his ear down towards the ground. As he did so, Phish steadily yet carefully made his way forward, unsure of how to proceed. Behind him, Mai was grasping onto tuffs of grass to keep her steady.

"Huh. And everyone said we got rid of it." Mai hummed.

"What?! What is- Oh." Phish frowned, staring ahead.

Phish was far from interested in study the ecology of the plains, but despite his lack of knowledge on the grasslands, he knew for a fact that trees should not move. Yet, across the plains, he could see them as they began to unearth themselves.

* * *

Unfortunately for Portic, climbing up into a tree meant he was at the mercy of the shifting plant, writhing and wriggling intensely. He had no idea what he was in for, and for a brief moment, the thought of karma caught his mind.

That thought was replaced with yelling, "Hey! What the heck, this tree is broken!"

"I don't think these are even trees, Portic!" Ophi gasped, attempting to grip one of the shifting branches.

As she stumbled, Ophi finally managed to grip to one of the branches, she gasped suddenly. The "trees" began climbing into the air at a tremendous speed. The leaves and branches holding the greenery slowly appeared to retract back into the trunk of the wood, leaving Portic dangling from the tentacle. From the ground, Rinse's eyes expanded as the true nature of the trees unearthed themselves. Propping itself up on the many oaks that once served as a thicket, a large orb-like machine rose up from the ground, scattering dirt and grass. Both Inklings previously gripping the tentacles promptly released their grip, willingly falling to the ground with a thud, getting up without so much as a scratch.

Groaning, both of them stared up, squeaking as the bizarre machine began falling towards them. All three Inklings switched into squid and leaped off of the hill, barely avoiding the crushing blow of the mech. Sliding down the hill, all of them switched back into Inkling form, carrying their Bamboozler ink weapons in their hands, aiming at the mechanical miscreant. Upon getting a closer look at their adversary, they noticed it had the guise of an octopus. Two glass orbs with searchlights beaming through them served as the eyes, and a large filter of sorts acted as a mouth. The aforementioned "trees" twisted together, creating eight large tentacles, stretching out of sockets on the machine. Rising up from its own crater, it stared down at the squids. They stared back, only more horrified than anything.

"...Quick, Rinse!" Portic called out, the other Inkling arching an eyebrow, "Formations!"

Acting swiftly, Portic switched into a squid immediately, hopping over onto Rinse's back, reverting back to his regular Inkling form. Legs dangled over Rinse's shoulders, both he and his companion aimed their Bamboozlers. While Ophi was staring in awe at the sidelines, both of them glared at the machine, convinced that they had the tactical advantage.

"Fire!" Portic shouted, with Rinse nodding as well.

Two streams of blue launched out of the Bamboozlers, simultaneously blasting the octopus machine's round abdomen. Laughing, Portic continued pulling the trigger, back and forth. Eventually, it seemed as though the worst it dealt was mildly paint the machine. This continued for quite some time, up until the point where the ammo supply seemed to dry. After hearing a couple clicks coming from the gun, it occurred to the the Inklings that perhaps this was not working.

"...Well, I think we got some good hits in." Portic commented positively, watching as the octopus began raising itself into the air again.

Frantically, Ophi slammed into the two, shoving the entire squadron, including herself, out of harm's way as the mech body-slammed the ground once again, causing a sizable tremor. Across from them behind a safe barrier of hills, the other two protagonists watched as the battle raged on. Phish could hardly believe what he was seeing from a distance.

"How do you forget THAT exists?!" Phish asked frantically.

Clearing her throat, Mai began to explain as metal clanged in the background, "Hey man, that Octoweapon was scrapped. We thought it was long gone."

"Wait, Octoweapon? Scrapped?" Phish probed curiously.

She ceased speaking for a moment, eyes lighting up as she stared at him. "Ooh, right. Uh, yeah, we built these giant deathtraps to krill you guys."

"..." Phish could not believe what he was hearing as he stood on the grass.

Staring across the fields, he had one hand firmly on the Octoshot holstered on the side of his pants. Without a word, he started to run, much to Mai's surprise.

Ophi, on the other hand, could not be more distressed. The fact that she had to avoid getting squashed by a robot was one thing, but attempting to keep her friends alive was another. For a reason unknown to her, Portic continually attempted to smack the mech's tentacles with his bamboo staff, and Rinse would follow his every move without complaining. Unless she warned them, they would just wham the tendril repeatedly until the next attack. It was a merciless cycle that went on and on, and it continued over and over.

Eventually, it seemed as though it was the case. With every minor scratch that the two dealt to the tentacles, they were given bruises in return. It was pandemonium, and while Ophi attempted to shoot the tentacle as to assist, it seemed as though it were pointless, with the machine continuing its rampage despite the resistance. Eventually, she stopped shooting, staring at the machine. It was almost unstoppable, and seemed

"We've almost got it! Don't worry!" Portic called it as reassuring as he could while bashing a tentacle.

But in reality, all Ophi could do was worry. Without a good estimate of whether or not they were doing damage, she worried. However, it seemed as though her other squad members were not finished. Continually smacking the tentacles left and right, Portic and Rinse alternated between left and right, shouting warnings at each other as a tentacle lashed out. She looked on, thoroughly impressed at the two. Each time they were nicked, they just leapt right back into the action. Staring at the many appendages of the mech, she aimed her gun again. Pulling the trigger, a burst of blue rocketed out of the barrel, splashing the side of one of the artificial tentacles.

It did not do a single thing. Eventually, Portic grew tired of using his gun has a sword, and sulked, gasping for breath. Rinse simply stared up at the monstrosity, nodding.

"This thing is strong." He commented, staring at the many tendrils.

"Tch! Why won't it die?!" Portic asked, punching the tentacles irritably, the octopus mech standing proud.

Rinse hummed, eyes tracking towards the dirt. "A machine can break just as easily as any of us can perish. ...You just need to find its weakness."

Blinking, both Portic and Ophi tracked their sturdy companion's sight towards the ground as well. Staring in the dirt, they noticed a cord running up through the dirt, attached next to one of the tentacles.

"It only has seven tentacles?" Ophi commented, narrowing her eyes.

All of a sudden, Portic began grinning. Chuckling mischievously, he gripped the end of the bamboo and sprinted.

Raising his bamboo to strike, he started to smile the widest he could manage as he aimed for the cord, bringing it down as hard as he could. "Oh, this is going to be so- GREAFIGHAOGHOAHFIHF."

Floating down towards the ground, looking about as charred as coal itself, the burnt squid laid on the floor, just barely blinking. Walking by him, Rinse simply picked up the squid and slung him over his back.

"Good work." He spoke simply, Portic springing back to life to give a thumbs-up with his tentacle, albeit somewhat shakily.

Above them, the Octoweapon shook unsteadily, looking ready to fall at any moment. Walking over to Ophi, who stood perched on the grass in awe, Rinse laid the overdone Portic on the ground, who raised a tentacle in the air. Giving a slight smile, she began to say something, until she noticed something. Just above her, the machine made a noise akin to something being jammed in a printer. Frowning, all three of them stared upwards. Slowly but steadily, the mouth started to shake violently. Eventually, out of the cylindrical maw of the Octoweapon, after many creaks, a cannon revealed itself from the insides, held up by metallic joints.

Staring at the cannon for a second, the trio began to take a step back. Then, as they could see a viscous liquid through the nozzle peak out slightly, they began to dash. Turning around a full one hundred and eighty degrees, they sprinted, the lights in the Octoweapon's head flashing red. During the dash, as the squadron attempted to escape, Ophi stumbled over a knot of grass on the ground. Noticing her stumble, the other two attempted to turn around, only to meet the foreboding gaze of the Octoweapon.

Her eyes shot open as violet ink began spewing at a tremendous rate, aiming towards her, ready to splat her on sight. She turned and attempted to run again, the beam of ink already gaining on her in a moment. Higher up on the hill behind cover, the two other Inklings gasped, reaching out for her. Just barely, they could catch the sight of something slamming into her, the weaponized stream of violet firing into the sky, missing them completely. With its final attack spent, the Octoweapon's lights dimmed, and with a large groan, leaned backwards slowly until it spiralled into a fall, smashing into the earth, dealing its last damage, its eyes shutting off. Behind the hill, both Portic and Rinse waited as the dust settled around them. Glancing at each other, they were both fraught with a cold, sheer feeling of fear they had never experience prior. Slowly climbing up the side of the hill, they stared out at the destruction.

The Octoweapon sat in its crater, smoke rising from the shattered glass bulbs it had for eyes, dirt covering it from head to toe as it laid sunken in its crater. Rinse cringed, staring away from the grass drenched in an acidic violet, staining the earth. Portic on the other hand glanced around nervously, leaping on the top of the hill, staring out at the destruction.

"...Ophi!" He shouted, looking around.

He slid down the hill, now thoroughly concerned. Staring down at the ground scorched by the violet, contemplating digging. Gritting his teeth, he got up to his feet again, and began searching once more.

He tried once more. "OPH-"

"Ow!" Was her immediate response.

Blinking, Portic stared down. He realized that he was stepping on a long blue tentacle. Following the small trail, he found a mildly dusty Ophelia, lying on the ground, waving at Portic from the ground in her Inkling form. Next to her, in his own squid form, Phish laid, staring at the sky almost blankly. When Portic leaned in close, carefully placing an ear up to the squid, Phish hopped up in shock, switching back to Inkling form, gasping for breath.

"...Oh Cod, I'm so stupid." He grit his teeth, holding his head in his hands.

Glancing at the confused Portic, Ophi simply smiled, standing up, walking over to Phish, tapping him on the shoulder. Removing his hands from his face, he peered at Ophi morosely, eventually diverting his attention to the ground.

Hands on her hips, Ophi nodded. "Yeah, I agree, that was pretty stupid."

"...Well, I suppose I'm going to have to… Get used to not… Living?" Phish blinked, glancing at a smirking Portic, "Did you-"

"Wow, you are stupid." Portic began snickering almost uncontrollably, with the other male Inkling beginning to catch on.

"...No." He stood, mouth agape.

All of a sudden, Ophi gripped Phish, hugging him tightly. "Thank you for being stupid."

Phish could not say a word, just stand in shock of it all. He felt as though he should say something, but for the moment, all he could do was stand. Sighing, he just returned the hug out of a social instinct. Letting go, Ophi stared at Phish with a smile.

"Still the first few days of the war, and you save me from a laser beam?" Ophi smirked, "What happened to being mopey all of a sudden?"

Phish sighed, shaking his head. "I- You're really making me regret this."

"Ah, but I'm loving it, stupid." She sighed, grinning at him.

Frowning, Phish glared at her. "No, stop."

"Nah, she does have a point, stupid. That was pretty stupid." Portic grinned, slapping him on the back.

"Not you too." He frowned, slowly walking backwards.

"...Try not to jump straight at death next time."

Slowly, Phish turned around. Staring at him face to face was a less than happy looking Rinse, towering above him. Gulping nervously, he began rubbing the back of his neck, backing away down the hill, the other two's smiles diminishing.

"Of course I wouldn't do it again. What do you think I am-" Phish began to speak up, glaring at Rinse.

"Stupid." He put simply, adjusting his helmet above a small scratch on his forehead, smirking down at Phish.

The other Inklings began to chuckle to themselves. Frowning to himself, Phish began stomping off, uttering something about walking back to camp, storming off with his arms straight down by his sides. As the laughter died down the farther he walked, he eventually came across a smirking octopus, leaning on the side of the grass, taking in the aroma of the grass and the smoke that rose into the air, wafting over by her nose.

"Eh, don't listen to them," Mai grinned at him, "I think you did pretty good."

Phish cocked an eyebrow at her curiously.

"Stupid." She smirked, resting on the grass peacefully.

For a moment, Phish shook somewhat violently, Mai's smile fading. For a moment, she contemplated whether or not she should get moving. She was surprised, however, to see as he dropped to the floor, resting besides her on the fields, the wind blowing above them.

Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Thanks, Octojerk."

Rolling her eyes underneath her goggles, Mai crossed her legs, beginning to lounge. "You too, Inklidiot."

* * *

AN: Well, there it is folks. The first Octoweapon in the story, give yourselves a pat on the back.

Thanks Recurring Guest for reviewing! That does seem like a pretty simple plan. Alright, from this day forth, under the ambiguity of the Internet on this review page on a random site, you shall henceforth be known as Sir Recurring Guest of the Squid's Blue Table. Or just Recurring Guest, I suppose. That works just peachy.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to catch up on my schedule, see you.


	6. Get Scooting, Lil' Phishy

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Get Scooting if You Wanna Get Scouting, Phish!**

The sun above the grassy plains was setting. Already, the once vibrant blues and greens of the plains was switching to various shades of violet, orange, and finally, the all-consuming night sky painted black, the only thing sticking out in the darkness being the stars in the sky and the warm colors dancing from a fire pit. Corralled by a circle of small rocks, the fire danced on with an undying fervor. Embers rose and dropped on a whim, attempting to send empty threats to the grass, blocked only by the stones surrounding them.

Lying by the fire, four sleeping bags stretched outside faced upwards towards the stars. Within them, four snoozing Inklings with helmets sat at their sides rested comfortably on the soft mounds of grass. The flames cast light on each of their faces; Ophi slept in a somewhat precarious position, close to the fire, her sea creature necklace still strung around her neck as she snored softly. Curled up in his own bag, Rinse was asleep close by the fire as well, his face practically gazed over the flames in his sleep had his eyelids not been shut and aimed towards the stars. Finally, Phish and Portic were sitting off with their toes pointed towards the heat source, curling up in the bags, with Portic sound asleep, hugging the dirt as if it were a pillow.

But despite the welcoming prospect of getting a good night's rest, Phish was wide awake, staring at the stars with a frown. One day had passed, and he and the others had already encountered was incredible in all of the wrong ways. He had dodged death twice, and yet he still did not feel quite right, as if they were just miracles. Why did he have to wage a war? Why did they not decide to send more qualified Inklings instead of drafting random squids?

Also, why was there an octopus sleeping across from him?

Phish frowned, arching an eyebrow towards the sky. Silently turning on his side, he blinked, noticing a dark violet blob huddled away from the fire. It was somewhat difficult to make out, but he could definitely hear the snores of Mai as she dozed on the hills. How she managed to keep warm so far away from the fire was certainly a mystery. Perhaps octopuses did not need the comforts of warmth in the dead of night as much as squids did. Either way, having her around was certainly problematic, to say the least.

Out of all the things that could have happened today, making a friend out of his species' sworn enemy was a shocker. Yet somehow, Mai was kind enough, or at least neglectful enough to spare his life. Thinking long and hard on that, he realized something else. Had Mai not spared his life, then perhaps he would not have been able to shove Ophi out from the destruction of the ink beam, perhaps. Which was another question he would have to ask later. Though, he supposed that the name "Great Octoweapon", or as he preferred, "giant metal deathtraps" could suffice for the time being. The fact that there could be more somewhere out there was just more stressful. Sure, shooting one another was one thing, but the fact that the Octarians had sci-fi machines that he only saw in movies had him wonder if it was too late to change sides.

On the other hand, the Inklings he had met during the first day of a continent spanning war were extremely docile. Compared to the stereotypical buff army men he thought he was going to deal with, and so far the only example, Rinse, was soft spoken at worst. Portic was certainly the character, and for better or for worse seemed outspoken like a child. Which was bizarre considering that he figured that they were both the same age. Then there was Ophi. Despite the fact that Phish could waltz right up and ask her about her past, he did not feel like doing so. It was almost calming just having her around, despite the fact that she practically turned him into the butt of a joke on being the "stupid" one from hours ago.

Sighing, he just turned over on his side away from the light, closed his eyes, and attempted to sleep on the ground.

"...Psst."

Once the very quiet noise reached his ears, he shot a glare towards where he last saw the octopus lying under the night sky. There was nothing but a round patch of grass where it looked as though an animal had torn up the plants to make a suitable bed to rest on. Blinking, he immediately started gulping down in preparation of spotting her standing over him, as the fire cast a light towards him. One fine long shadow stretched out into the dark, prompting him to glance upwards towards the flames.

"...Psst!" The voice whispered again, extremely close to his face.

On one hand, Phish was reassured by the fact that Mai was not actually attempting to assassinate him, standing over him. On the other hand, he was not sure how he felt with Portic beaming down at him with the brightest smile that he could manage.

Again, Portic leaned in. "Psst!"

"What?" He asked just as quietly with a scowl, purposely letting his eyelids droop to act as if he had been rudely awakened.

The gesture seemed to fly over the taller Inkling's head, who just grinned and went on. "Me and Rinse are gonna go scout ahead and see what those octopuses are doing. You should come!"

Cocking an eyebrow yet again, Phish rolled around in his sleeping bag until he face elsewhere. Standing over him somewhat menacingly was Rinse, who carried a Bamboozler and some sort of large brush, coated with blue ink on its bristles in his hands separately.

"...Where'd you get that?" Phish asked as he began to sit up, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Without a word, Rinse glanced backwards towards a small tent set-up across from the fire. Out of the shadows of the tent, a few wooden hilts poked out, messily stockpiled on the bare grass. Narrowing his eyes and turning back towards the others, Phish gave them yet another skeptical look, much to Portic's chagrin. Now, while Phish's subtle eyelids flew right over his head, the dark scowl he was given was like stapling a badge that said, "I really don't want to hang out with you" on his shirt.

Huffing, Portic crossed his arms and glared. "Alright, fine. Go ahead and stay here with boring Ophi then. Because me and Rinse are going to go out and have fun."

"Fun?" Phish asked with a frown, shaking his head, "Whatever man. Have fun getting yourself krilled."

As Phish began to lay back down, Portic fell to the floor, leaning right by his side, staring at him with a frown. "Oh, come on! We need more than just two guys if we're going to go scouting!"

"Okay, then why haven't you tried asking Ophi?" Phish yawned, curling up into a blue squid-shaped ball.

"We already tried that! Rinse?" Portic swiveled his head towards the less talkative Inkling.

Sighing silently, Rinse marched over to the last Inkling squad member who still remained fast asleep. Towering over her, Rinse glared at the feminine face poking out of the sleeping bag still practically asking to be burnt by the flames nearby. Reaching down, Rinse scooped the bag up from underneath, making sure that Ophi remained still in the bag, lightly snoring. All of a sudden, the Inkling carrying her began shaking her up and down rapidly, her medium tentacles and necklace spinning around as well. Eventually, Rinse paused the spin cycle.

"Nngh… No. Not yet." She murmured, her tongue wiggling outside her mouth just barely.

Without warning, the palm of her hand smacked Rinse in the face. Then again. She repeated the action quite a few times, Rinse simply blinking each time he anticipated getting smacked. Eventually, her hand rested on Rinse's nose, and, as if it were a switch, pulled on it to the side, without any objections from him as she fiddled with the bridge of his nose. Eventually, her hand drooped, and Ophi went back into complete sleep mode, snoring quietly with a smile as if that had never happened. Kneeling down on the grass, he placed Ophi somewhat further away from the fire and gave a polite bow, before walking back towards where the others were, Phish watching in awe from the safety of his own sleeping bag.

"...Jeez." Phish rubbed the back of his head.

Standing up by Portic, Rinse stretched and yawned, adjusting his nostrils. "...She's still knocked out from the metal octopus incident."

Phish's nonexistent squid eyebrows drooped. "Okay. So before we do anything else, let me ask one question. Alright?"

"Alright." Portic nodded eagerly.

"Hypothetically, if I were to deny the request the first time, then would you pester me into going with you?" He asked, reverting back into a humanoid Inkling, brushing down his tie.

Shaking his head slowly, Portic just smiled back at him. "No, after all, I have Rinse here."

As he glanced at the larger Inkling who gave a gruff nod, Phish just yawned and gave a nod, then closed his eyes. Stretching his arms in his comfortable position, he rested his head on the ground.

"But then again, what happens if he gets injured?"

One of Phish's pair of eyelids masked in black shot open, a brown iris peering to the side. Portic leaned by on the grass and inspected each star in the sky with a seemingly great interest, as did Rinse. Face hardening, Phish began closing his solitary eye once again.

"And for that matter, if he gets injured, what happens if they catch me?"

"Portic!" Phish shouted, sitting upwards irritably.

Jolting up to his feet as Phish left his knapsack, already advancing on the other Inkling, Rinse started stepping to the side as the angry squid humanoid began stomping over towards the other Inkling as the flames continued their flamenco dance on their small patch of grass. While backing away, Portic started glancing towards the side quickly, a smirk emerging on his face. Holding his ground, halting immediately.

"Shh, Phish, you'll wake her up!" He spoke in a whisper, pointing to his right.

Rolling his eyes, Phish continued to stomp over towards him. "Yeah right, after that, I doubt anything can-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he was bashed with a hefty projectile that seemed to come out of nowhere which smacked him directly on the face. Flinching and rubbing the immediate area where he was hit, he glared down, expecting a rock. Instead, a helmet rolled around by his feet.

"Phhhhish…We're trying to sleep." Ophi groaned, rustling about in the grass.

Grinning, Portic nodded along. "Yeah Phish."

"...You've got to be kidding me." Phish grit his teeth, hands trembling.

"...Please?" Portic asked with the purest face he could manage, holding his hands together tight.

Biting his lip, Phish glanced tiredly towards their snoozing comrade, who laid there silently. Huffing, he switched his stare back towards the other males, who just smirked and awaited him. For a moment, he was unsure whether or not he truly wanted to leave. After all, just leaving a small sleeping squid, lazily sprawled out on the floor in the middle of nowhere was just an issue in itself. Nevermind the fact that it was cold outside, for all he knew, Ophi could be splatted behind their backs. Getting up to his feet, Phish attempted to say something.

"Psst."

Beak clenching in annoyance, Phish was just about ready to give Portic a piece of his mind, raising his fist towards the other Inkling.

"Whoa, Phish!?" He yelped, shielding himself from the blow.

Pausing with his punch frozen in the air, Phish blinked, glaring towards him curiously. "Stop making those noises."

"...What noises?" Portic blinked with a frown.

Frown dissipating, Phish arched an eyebrow, turning around. Eyes narrowing, he peered into the darkness, staring at the large tent in front of them. From behind the tent, a pair of two violet orbs stared back at him. Just barely could he notice a hand wave back at him in the dark. Phish immediately mouthed a "No", much to the hidden Mai's discontent.

"So...You coming?" Portic asked from behind, unaware of the Octoling.

There were two options here. One, Phish could go back to sleep and get well rested for tomorrow, which he would much prefer. The only problem was the fact that if any of them saw Mai, it could end in much more bloodshed than he would have liked. On the flipside, if he could lead the two away from the Octoling…

"Hmm…You know what?" Phish hummed, staring over towards the Octoling, which just nodded with a cheery smile, giving him a barely visible thumbs-up in the dark, "Alright, fine. But we're all coming BACK if we don't find anything."

As he hummed, he tilted his head a bit, his tentacles bobbing behind him. Adjusting her short tentacles, Mai switched into an octopus, crawling around the tent. Portic smiled, unaware to their plot.

"Really? Alright! We're going on an octopus hunt, fellas!" The lean Inkling cheered, marching away.

With a solitary nod, both Rinse and Phish followed him as he continually spun his Inkbrush as a baton, drops of blue flung to and fro as he spun. As they began their "scouting mission", Phish shot one worried look back to camp. Back by the tent, Mai leaned on the sides, giving him a short wave. For a moment, Phish found himself grinning very slightly.

" _This could actually work out."_ He thought, eyebrow raised.

"Hey, no second thoughts now!" Portic called, "We're going to go find us some Octarians!"

Blinking, Phish turned around, eyes opening in shock. Already, the other two Inklings were ascending hill after hill, waving to Phish as they went. With a sigh, he stood up and stared out at the sky, the moon still shining brightly. Taking a deep breath, he followed after them, still holstering his...or Mai's Octoshot by his hip. He too ventured over the grassy knolls that were blemishes on an otherwise flat landscape.

Behind him, Mai sighed, glancing around. "Alrighty lady, looks like I'm sleeping over at your place."

Taking a step by the tent, she poked her head inside. The contents of the shelter slowly caused her lips to curl up into a smile. The floor littered with weapons, simple guns and brushes, but weapons nonetheless was truly a sight to behold. At least, Mai thought so. Retracting her face from the tent, she whirled around to check if anyone was looking. Ophi was still sound asleep. Smiling, the Octoling quickly set out to search through the mess, eventually dragging out something that resembled a bamboo pole.

Taking the Bamboozler by the nozzle, she swung it once like a golf club, smiling. "Don't mind if I do..."

* * *

Mai was not the only one practicing their swings. Walking off into who knows where in the dark of night, Portic lead the charge, pretending to slice any rapscallion that dared crossed his path with his Inkbrush, spinning about, tossing the weapon into the air ever so often.

"...So what's your plan if we do find any Octarians?" Phish asked from behind, scaling up the incline his comrade was on, with Rinse following after him.

"Whack 'em! Easy." Portic spoke up, beaming with pride.

Frowning, Phish crossed his arms and glared at Portic. "Were you drafted too? You realize that your 'Throw yourself at the enemy' attitude almost splatted us."

Rolling his eyes, Portic just went back to attending to his imaginary marching band. "Nah. I volunteered for this. Me and Rinse, actually. Should've seen the look on the recruiters' faces when they saw us walk up."

"...At our age?" The Inkling with a tie asked.

"Yeah! Why not?" He grinned, leaning on the side of the hill, "It's better than having to stay in a stuffy classroom somewhere, constantly worrying about how the war would turn out when, hey! Why don't we just finish the war ourselves? We figured, 'we can krill a few people if we tried', ain't that right Rinse?"

Rinse blinked at his companion, biting his lip. "...I'd prefer the classroom, honestly. It's pretty calm there."

"Aw, really? Well then, don't worry, when we're all done here and can go home, I'll gladly follow you and keep you company!" Portic smiled, nudging the other Inkling on the shoulder with his elbow.

At the words, "keep you company", Rinse just smirked and nudged Portic back while he spun about. "Not in the classes I'd enroll in."

Phish felt as though he should say something, but the combination of a certain murder related statement was thrown about in the last few statements and the frantic and ultimately dangerous way Portic swung around his brush and the generally menacing way Rinse carried himself combined with the fact his trigger finger twitched by the Bamboozler dissuaded him from attempting to. Staring ahead through the dark, he frowned, hardly gleaning anything from the black shroud that covered the world around him. Humming as he twirled his brush, Portic halted suddenly, his eyelids closing together. Rinse blinked, following his lead, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"What?" Phish blinked, attempting to peer through the dead of night.

They did not say a word and just continued to stare straight ahead, regardless of what would happen. Whatever they were doing, the silence that was substituted for an actual answer was already ticking Phish off.

"Seriously, what are you two looking at?" He whispered frantically, thoroughly antsy.

Yet again, he was met with nothing but silence and two Inklings looking at presumably nothing.

Irritated, Phish's voice rose. "Are you two trying to mess with me or something?"

All of a sudden, Portic turned around and shrugged. "Sorry, sorry, I thought I saw an Octarian."

Phish's eyes went wide. Peering out at the dark fields ahead, he raised the Octoshot by his side, shakily holding the trigger.

"Yeesh, calm down Phish. I just said I 'thought I saw an Octarian'." Portic sighed, shaking his head, "Nerves are getting to you."

Scowling, he simply lowered his firearm and sighed, sitting back on the hill. Portic smiled, swinging around his Inkbrush again without a care in the world. As he did so, Rinse stared over into the distance, frowning.

"...'An Octarian'?" He asked in a low murmur, shuffling slightly.

Portic just continued slashing the air with his brush. "Yeah, why?"

Standing up with a grunt, he aimed his weapon into the night, eye poised just above the nozzle. "Because I think you may have miscounted, Portic."

The other two Inklings froze in place. Glancing ahead, they scurried over to where Rinse was standing, eyeing the darkness carefully. If they looked close enough, they could vaguely spy lights. At first, the other two assumed it was the stars. Then they noticed the lights turning. A few of them even grew closer. Eventually, the lights turned until they shone upon them brightly, prompting the trio to shield their eyes with their arms.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" A female voice called out from behind the lights.

Stepping into the spotlight, an Octoling, smiling deviously with her goggles attached approached, carrying herself with an air of elegance grinned at the others. Octotroopers surrounded them from all angles, carrying the lights themselves while the Octoling circled around them, the others unsure of what to do next.

"There are still survivors. I was sure that we splatted the rest of them." She smirked, shaking her head, "I should congratulate you for surviving thus far."

Rinse and Phish backed up, glancing around them cautiously, both still carrying weapons in their hands. Portic, while he had ceased constantly swinging his brush, smiled politely, hoisting the brush like he was a batter winding up for a pitch as the Octarians began closing in, slowly aiming their weapons at the small squadron.

"Unfortunately, as amazing as that is, that would only undermine my position as the one who is in charge of wiping you all out." She grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth.

* * *

AN: Okay, okay, I'm sorry for the less complete chapters, but with this whole school and work business resuming since the summer, I'm going to have to slow my roll a bit to manage all this work. But I'll see what I can do with the limited time frames I get!

But aside from crippling workloads, let's take a look at some reviews. Thanks Sir Recurring Guest of the Squid's Blue Table for reviewing!

I'm rather surprised you like that name, good anonymous sir. It will certainly help you stand out as a true patron of nobility. Or at least have a distinct name that will turn heads.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to see how I can fit stuff into my schedule. See you.


	7. Miss Pretty, Little, Psychotic Mechanic

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **We're the Heroes...Right?**

His Bamboozler still poised for a strike, Portic grinned at the abundance of Octarian troops surrounding them. There was one Octosniper in the back of the crowd, aiming a mounted gun of sorts towards the Inklings, specifically Phish, muttering something under his breath about him being familiar. That only made him uncomfortable. The other two Inklings reached for their ink weapons as well, unsure of how to proceed. Now if Phish wanted to complain about the rate at which the war was progressing before, he would certainly have something to deal with now. Among the ring the Octotroopers had created, shining lights in each and every direction, a buzzing noise emanating from the lanterns. In front of the light, the shadow the head Octoling cast nearly overshadowed them all. Despite Rinse's intimidating stature and normally composed nature, his eyebrows narrowed dangerously as he glanced from each octopus.

The Octoling seemed to get quite the amusement out of the precarious glares. "Ah, right, I must apologize for an arrival on such short notice. My name is-"

"What?" Portic arched an eyebrow, raising one of his hands to his ears as if he were frail and elderly.

Pursing her lips, the Octoling just cleared her throat. "Apologies, is my voice too soft? My name is-"

"What?!" He yelled, narrowing his eyes, making a larger funnel directed towards his right ear. "Sorry, I can't hear you, the light's too blinding."

Phish cringed at how barbarically stupid that sounded to him and just groaned to himself. If they were not surrounded by a dozen Octarian troops, he would probably smack him on the head after that atrocious contradiction. Rinse on the other hand cracked a smirk. Even if it was a ridiculous thing to say, it made him relax somewhat.

What happened next was anything but relaxing or amusing. An irritated Octoling turned towards her colleagues, raising her hand into the night sky air, snapping her fingers once. Upon the sound of her fingers clicking out into the air, the lights shut off, one by one, with the last expressions on some of the Octotroopers that of fear. Blinded by the sudden shift in lighting, the Inklings glanced around, attempting to get a bearing for their surroundings. A bloodcurdling cry pierced the air, each one of the male Inklings turning in a circle to check on one another.

"Uh." They all muttered at once, seeing as none of them were currently on the verge of death.

However, there was definitely something awry. Without warning, another scream joined in, followed by another, and another, and another. The repetition of terrifying noises sounded off in a circle, echoing around them. With a final, very disturbing gurgling noise, the screams halted. The three pair of Inkling eyes present attempted to readjust to the darkness. Luckily for them, with another snap of the fingers, the light flooded back into their eyes, filling their vision.

It was also somewhat unlucky, or at least disturbing. As he blinked, Phish started to notice that the spots that Octotroopers were once sitting at were empty save for a few deactivated mobile platforms. Smoke rose from the shattered headlights. Standing in front of them, her back turned, an Octoling shivered and shook unstably next to a crowd of noticeably thinner and significantly more frightened Octotroopers, ink dripping down the two-legged Octoling's arms. All of a sudden, Portic's joke seemed a little less funny.

Turning around, the Octoling glared back at the three Inklings with her goggles now wrapped around her head, a psychotic grin on her face, crimson eyes eyeing them all hungrily, everyone but Rinse backing away in discomfort. "Ah, I'm so, so sorry! It appears that I set the lights too high…Can you hear me now?"

Portic raised a finger as if to say something, but was cut off immediately by Rinse's palm, who shut his mouth quite literally, the larger Inkling nodding quickly.

That seemed to pacify the murderous Octoling, who smiled back with a little less crazy. "Oh, thank you! My apologies for the delay, a few...Idiots must have mistakenly set the lights too high."

The lean blue Inkling rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, inhaling through his squid beak. "Yeah...Uh, minor inconveniences, right?"

Snickering as if she had just swatted some large flies, she nodded wholeheartedly. "I know! I've gotten my hands dirty what with every single time one of them fouled up!"

Sneaking glances towards the other octopuses present, it was clear from their mortified expressions that this was a recurring theme among her. Rinse glared back at the maniacal octopus with a half-lidded, suspicious expression. She did help thin down their numbers. It was bad enough they were leaking ink all over these plains, drenching the plants and environment. Phish gulped, reaching for the Octoshot by his side.

All of a sudden, her smile turned sour upon noticing Phish's weapon. "You…That's not yours. What are you doing with that Octoshot, silly?"

He froze in the middle of grabbing his weapon, or rather Mai's weapon, and narrowed his eyes. "I...um…" Running through his mental catalogue of explanations swiftly, he cleared his throat. "I stole it."

For a brief moment, the curled tentacles on the Octoling's head puffed up crimson. Portic and Rinse stared in awe, staring at the head as if it would explode as if it were a volcano. An Octotrooper behind her shook his tentacle like head and slowly shuffled away on his cylindrical hoverboard, leaving a fuschia trail of ink behind him, much to the sturdier Inkling's irritation.

Instead of an outburst, the Octoling just sighed once, rubbing her temples with both her gloved hands. "Oh my, M-41…You certainly have gotten sloppy since the start of this whole slaughter."

Flinching and stepping back, Phish grew extremely uneasy, his hand still reaching for the ink gun. It was not a war to her. It was a slaughter. Already Phish wanted to smack Portic a couple times and wished he was curled up next to Ophi by the fire.

She continued, her smile reemerging. "No matter. If you will, may I finally finish my introduction, please?"

Raising one of his fingers with intention to speak, Portic was cut off yet again, this time by Rinse standing directly in front of him, shoving him back somewhat. A muffled, "Hey!" rang out from behind him, but other than that, he nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

Politely curtsying among the other Octotroopers, the majority of the lights turned towards her. "Thank you so much. My field name is QU3." She spoke proudly, pronouncing each letter and number slowly, "Or, if you prefer, Query."

"...Wouldn't that translate to Que-" Portic began to point out.

Her tentacles heated up once more and the lights in her goggles flashed. "No, it WOULD NOT. Que is NOT a lady's name!"

"...Why is that a problem?" Rinse arched an eyebrow.

Her tentacles flopped back down onto her head. "It just is."

Phish sighed and shook his head. "Look, if you're not going to krill us or anything we'll just get going."

Stepping away, he almost forgot about the wall of Octotroopers up until the point where they crowded around where he attempted to escape, huddling together in a thick line. Frowning, he sidestepped, only for the other octopuses to converge around his escape route yet again.

"...That's a no, huh?" Phish muttered as he took a step back.

"Now, that wouldn't be very nice, would it?" Query spoke up, crossing her arms. "After all, I just found out that you may have stolen Octoling property. For that, I think a bit of a reward is in order."

"Reward?" Portic piped up almost eagerly.

"Oh, geez." Phish murmured cautiously.

Reaching one hand behind her back with a smile, she grabbed something from her belt. While Portic looked on curiously, the other two tensed up, reaching for the bamboo and metallic weapons. Rinse aimed with one eye shut and the other ready for shooting while Phish fumbled with the Octoshot somewhat, aiming it as well after a brief mishap, azure ink dripping from the nozzle. Whatever technology was in the weapon, it was helpful if not embarrassing, as unlike the Bamboozler weapons that Phish would have to refill manually, as he raised it in front of his face, he could already see the blue levels escalating.

In Query's left hand, a single, simple box-like device with a red button rested in her palm, the button glowing almost menacingly in the dark air of night. "Well, I hope you enjoy it, this is one of my favorites!"

A pervasive feeling of dread began to fill their chests. Without warning, both the Octoling and an Inkling triggered their respective weapons, Rinse firing towards the remote just as she pressed the button. As a splotch of blue ink smacked the controller out of her hand, the Octoling just smirked with her mouth wide open, revealing a row of jagged teeth, which were still polished to the point of where they could be mistaken as diamonds.

"Too late! Oh boy, this is going to be so exciting!" She squealed in delight. "This toy is one of my favorites! Inklings, say hello to your doom!"

Cackling with a crazed insanity, the trio of Inklings hesitated no longer, Phish, Portic and Rinse all aiming their weapons around them, fingers gripped on the triggers. Well, Portic still seemed as though he believed his gun was a baseball bat, but was still raring to go regardless. However, instead of moving forward like they expected their enemies to, it seemed as though the Octotroopers surrounded them were fleeing, as they turned and moved off into safe locations, creating a much wider perimeter as they went. Eventually, it seemed as though the Octotroopers had all flown the coop, until Phish caught a few glimpses of tentacles peeking over the green hills. Unlike the others, Query just paced around them with her sinister smirk, as if she were a predator ready to tear into the unfortunate prey now thoroughly caught.

At least, it seemed so, until the smirk on Query's face was replaced to an expression of bewilderment. Scowling, she glanced back at her little remote on the grass below.

"...Oops. Excuse me for a moment!" She said, with yet another deceiving grin as she took a seemingly innocent step backwards as beads of sweat dripped down her face.

Unlike before, Rinse was fully ready to shoot the crazed cephalopod down, aiming to shoot. Before he could click the trigger of the Bamboozler, a combat boot spun about, kicking his gun out of his hands. Scrambling back towards the remote after disarming one of the Inklings, Query grasped for the fallen controller, raising a fist.

Rinse cursed to himself, running after his sliding firearm. "Shoot her! She's up to something!"

"Shoot her?" Portic blinked, staring down at his Bamboozler, "Oh! Alright! I got it."

With a swing of his staff, Portic grunted as he flung the bamboo gun towards the swift Octoling, much to Phish's surprise. Across from them, a glimmer of sickening satisfaction flashed from within the Octoling's metallic mask, a violet light flashing in the night. The glow shut off as a clunk noise sounded off, the Bamboozler striking her in the back of the head, sending her sprawling towards the ground face first.

Flashing an accomplished grin, the lean Inkling stood with his helmet in his hand, pumping his fist up with his headgear in his grasp. "Alright!"

The Octoling dazedly dropped to the grass, her chin landing on the big red button, an alarm sound blaring from the remote. Despite her newfound head injury, she smiled dizzily, a few Octotroopers in the back laughing in triumph.

"...Oh." Portic muttered, placing his helmet back on his head in embarrassment. "...Can I get a redo?"

"...Shoot." Rinse grit his teeth.

Across the great expanse of plains, smoke began to rise. They could barely see it in the night, but the wisps that blocked out the stars seemed like a decent indication. It began steadily, until an overpowering pillar of black clouds erupted from the hills in the distance. Everyone stared in a mixture of awe and fear, the almost intoxicating aroma of the smog drifting over already.

Phish was not sure what he should do next. Without an inkling of an idea, he scrambled over towards the barely conscious Octoling, aiming the Octoshot towards her, glaring at the cowering octopuses among the hills as if to say, "Take one step and the lady gets it", despite his nervousness. Even if she murdered a few of their comrades, the other octopuses stared in worry. He smirked, reassured that he was doing something correctly.

"Rinse, what the shell is that?" Portic asked, unarmed and uncomfortable.

Rinse crouched and picked up his Bamboozler from the dirt, dusting it off. His eyes narrowed at the smoke suspiciously. Again, there was a brief pause before anything happened. Then, in a brilliant flash, a noise like thunder boomed across the land. An explosion sounded off, startling several of the cephalopods. As the three Inklings fell to the ground, the earth shaking, Phish glanced up into the air from the grass, eyes widening in surprise. Spiralling above the earth, a familiar round octopus death machine spun in the sky, long metal tentacles detaching in the sky, falling to the ground below with sizable thuds. Eventually, the main mass of the Great Octoweapon smashed into the earth. A handful of Octotroopers closest to the crash site were tossed up into the air, and screamed as they dropped back down to earth.

Throughout the spectacle, Phish realized that he took his eyes off of the hostage he had taken. Getting up to his feet, he glanced around him, eventually discovering Query standing above him, facing the machine. Sparks flew from the ruined eyes and oil spilled from the bottom, violet mixing with the black substance to create a strange dark fuchsia that spread among the ground. The tentacles twitched with a fervor, but soon fell still.

She turned around. Her Octoling Goggles were falling off of her face, dropping down to her neck once again. Phish stared at her, and she stared back. Her eyes were puffy and crimson. A few drips of violet dripped from her eyes.

"...You...the...my…" She stuttered, glaring at him with a sullen, almost soulless gaze, her eyebrows furrowing as if she was wondering how she should dissect him.

As pessimistic as he was about this whole war business, Phish did not feel like being dissected today. "Uh, guys?"

Before Phish could turn around, he was shot another glare. This time however, her smile returned. "...Did you do that? Did you destroy my machine?"

Portic popped up with his "melee" weapon in hand, brandishing it as menacingly as you could with a stick of bamboo. "Yeah, we did! And we're going to the same to you and your troops if you don't leave!"

Adjusting his tie on the ground, Phish muttered something about being vastly outnumbered with a sniper setting their sights on us right now, which just fell on deaf ears.

Query did not seem too fazed by the threat. "Oh, I was actually going to thank you. We did leave a malfunctioning prototype around somewhere, still plugged into the grid. I'm so glad you found it and gave it a final test run."

" _Of course it was just a prototype."_ Phish thought to himself with a scowl, _"And here I was hoping that all killer robots were fragile."_

"That false arrogance isn't going to win the war, octopus." Rinse chimed in with his Bamboozler cocked.

She shot him another friendly smile as if she were just his neighbor. His very psychotic looking neighbor. "Maybe not, but the droves of completed machines will probably do finish the job. The Squidbeak Splatoon of yours is off flinging themselves at one as we speak."

Phish arched an eyebrow. "Squidbeak Splatoon?"

"Those other savages who intend on hindering our progress…why do you insist on dragging this war out, Inklings?" She asked as she walked, a violet laser sight towards them. "It's a shame...perhaps I should have brought a spare Octoweapon. Alas, the other one is still fending off those ridiculous pests...Inklings, they never know when they've gone too far."

As she spoke, the Octosniper in the background trained one eye on the group, ready to fire at will. Rinse took aim as well, shuffling closer, taking caution with each step.

Frowning irritably, Portic started swinging his Bamboozler like a flyswatter. "Well that's because YOU people keep trying to splat us! I'm not going to wait around for you to come to our city and gun us down!"

Query immediately shook her head as if she were a teacher scolding a student. "Oh, silly, naïve Inkling. If only you could realize that it was your kind's fault we're in this mess to begin with. We could have shared land. We could have had peace. But no, you just decided to WALTZ UP and take what was OURS."

"You know what you did wrong!" Rinse shouted suddenly, stepping forward again. "You're all murderers. If we weren't willing to share, it was for good reason."

The Octoling's eyes narrowed in irritation, contradicted with a simple smirk. "Ooh, interesting." Turning around, she stared at the Octosniper in the distance. "Cover us, we're leaving. You're very lucky Inklings. If we all had weapons, this conversation would have ended a long time ago. Mark my words, however. Your little, 'hero' shenanigans are pointless. Once I find you next time, I will make sure myself that you are all eliminated. I will make sure myself...it will be fun."

Portic scoffed, shooting her a grin. "Says the person who wanted to hide behind a machine."

Query just spun around and shot him a smile of her own. "Oh, my, I smell a challenge. Don't worry, I'll be sure end this whole silly charade myself, later. That is, if my little Octosniper buddy here does not end you first. Toodle-loo!"

With that said, she began to strut among the grass, walking around the destroyed Octoweapon that laid in shambles. As she walked, she playfully smacked the side of the machine with her boot. Another eruption ensued, the machine bursting into flames yet again as she jollily walked off, several Octotroopers following behind. Still perched on a knoll in the distance was the Octosniper, who smirked, already aiming the cannon towards the Inklings. Before it could fire, however, it caught a glimpse of something blue heading towards his its face. A yelp sounded out as one Octosniper fell to the grass besides its platform, attempting to clean its one exposed, now coated in blue eye out.

Pausing momentarily, Query glanced over at the fallen Octosniper, which rolled around, attempting, but failing at cleaning its eye, and just gave him a pout. "I'm sorry, but maybe next time you should have tried, I don't know, shooting."

She continued on her way, several intimidated Octotroopers shuffling after her as she ascended a hill as their sniper writhed about in fright. Without a word, Rinse began to walk towards it. Shooting a glance at each other, Phish and Portic just followed him from behind slowly, readying their weapons. As they approached the octopus, they could not help but feel somewhat uncomfortable. Standing over the octopus, they stared down at it, the Octosniper having finished its roll.

For a moment, it glanced up at Rinse through a shade of blue. Rinse appeared to give it a look of sympathy, and for a moment, it felt somewhat peaceful. The grass was comforting, and the octopus was no longer spazzing out. Closing its one, organic eye, it rested back on the grass, the less stocky Inklings staring at Rinse in awe. Then it happened. Without warning, Rinse took his Bamboozler and began firing. Ink blast after ink blast sounded out, until the spot where the octopus once laid was nothing but a puddle of blue. The other two Inklings' mouths gaped open as they stared at where the Octosniper once sat.

Lowering his weapon, Rinse muttered, "Rest in peace." Though, considering the low voice and the rapid discharge of ink shots, it may have occurred to Phish that he may not have been too depressed to see the unknown octopus pass on. Portic looked somewhat dumbfounded, he glanced at the heftier looking Inkling in shock.

"...We should get some rest." He muttered, slinging his Bamboozler over his shoulder, and began to walk off.

Still sitting over by the Octosniper's platform, Portic had his Bamboozler on his lap, staring at Phish incredulously. "...He just splatted that guy."

Glancing back in the general direction of camp, Phish sighed, getting up to his feet, an uneasy feeling churning in his stomach. "...Great, something we can sleep on. We'll talk about that in the morning…"

As he said that, he could not help but feel extremely uneasy. He most certainly did not want to talk about the fact that Portic's friend completely annihilated that octopus. Slowly, with a reluctant Portic following shortly behind, the two other Inklings kept a steady grip on their helmets as they left the battlefield, several marks of ink and abandoned Octarian equipment marking the scuffle they had left behind.

* * *

By the dying embers of the once roaring campfire, Ophi stirred, eyes opening slowly. She yawned, getting up to her feet just as sluggishly. Humming somewhat, grasping at her neck, she caressed her wooden necklace, the brown, polished surface glowing somewhat in the glow of the remaining flames. All of a sudden, she heard a brushing noise from behind her. Spinning around, she noticed a few clumps of grass that looked disheveled and trampled. By the side of the weapons tent, there was a sleeping bag, Phish's to be precise with his name embroidered on the top, curled and twisted in an almost disturbing way. It looked like a crow's nest, though it was sturdy and erect as if someone was inside with a few weapons poking out of the top as if they would ward off any competitors. Before she could ask Phish what he was doing in there, Phish came along.

"Hey Ophi, how are you doing?" He asked, startling her.

Turning back around, she noticed three very weary looking Inklings toting their weapons with an exhausted demeanor. She could make out a few ink stains on their clothing. Before she could ask where they had gone off to, both Portic and Rinse immediately dived into their respective sleeping bags, curled up in the warmth, and began to doze off.

Phish yawned, bags already growing heavy around his eyes. "Long story...we'll talk about it in the morning. Where's my-"

He froze, glaring at where his sleeping bag laid. A second passed, and Ophi swore that Phish may have saw something. Tracking his gaze, she tilted her head. A crashing noise sounded off, and when she snapped her head back to Phish's knapsack, it was turned over on its side, and a few of the weapons sticking out were scattered among the ground.

"...Probably like a bird or something." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

While it did look like a nest previously, Ophi was pretty sure seagulls do not steal Inkling beds. But regardless of what did the damage, Phish seemed much more content with the ground. A thump sounded off to her side. When Ophi glanced towards the other Inkling, he was already falling off to sleep on the ground, his snores sounding like the distressed sighs he already uttered in the day. As he snored, the last embers of the fire began to blow out with the wind, the temperature beginning to drop in degrees by the second. Frowning, Ophi looked around one last time, then, after surveying the area, crawled over to where her comrade slept, the male Inkling shivering somewhat.

She sighed and shook her head. "Stubborn Phish."

Climbing out of her sleeping bag, she stretched her arms, took hold of the knapsack, and dragged it over Phish, encompassing him in warmth. Switching into a blue squid, she slid up over him and into the entrance of her sleeping bag, resting in the entrance in her smaller squid form, drifting off to sleep with the knowledge that she was sleeping nearly on top of her friend. She then shivered in embarrassment at how inappropriate that sounded. Pushing the sleeping bag a little further off of him, she slept on the ground with the rest of the comfortable cloth resting on top of him, drifting off to sleep. For a brief moment, she could have sworn she had seen two violet orbs peer at her curiously from the dark, but, brushing them off, assuming they were just stars of some kind, she began to snooze, eyes shutting almost instantaneously.

* * *

Mai blinked back, taking the Octoling Goggles off of her face with a sigh, leaning on the side of the weapons tent, staring at the amusing situation that had unfolded in front of her, a pair of Inklings snoozing together. She just shrugged, turning back towards the new fort she had made out of her Inkling acquaintance's knapsack. _"You owe me, Phish."_

* * *

AN: Now, if any readers of my previous Splatoon stories are confused to how exactly the time setting of this story will work out considering Phish, don't fret, I have something planned.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


	8. What's the plan, Stan?

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

" **What's the plan, Stan?"**

Phish woke up suffocating via sleeping bag.

He had fallen asleep and stayed asleep throughout the whole night, tossing and turning in the grass. There was no washroom to clean up in and there was no mirror to reflect him, so he assumed that he looked much more green than he did blue. He woke up with a yawn, attempting to get up and stretch. Instead of feeling air filling his mouth, instead he was treated to a quick snack of sleeping bag fabric. He choked, feebly pushing the knapsack off his body until he managed to spit out part of the intrusive slumber material. Phish always assumed that breakfast in the army would be some generic ration that tasted pretty awful, but never assumed anything about knapsacks being on the menu.

A gaggle of laughter erupted from behind him. Spinning around, he rubbed his tired eyes, glancing at a sleeping bag that looked as though it were beaten up. One smiling Octoling greeted him, waving one hand out of the mess.

"Hey, Phishy. Good morning." She waved slowly, somehow able to move in the constricting bag, her short tentacles wrapped up above her head, making her head look somewhat like a dragon fruit.

Of course, just in case Mai had any hidden animosity directed towards him, he waved back slowly. "...Good morning, Mai."

Much to his surprise, she managed to pop out of the bag with no issue, switching from an octopus back into an Octoling within the span of a few seconds, stretching her arms in the open air once she had escaped from the comfortable fortress she had created. Phish scowled at the mess, unsure of whether or not it would be salvageable.

"...Great." He muttered, eyeing an Inkbrush sticking out of the top, dripping violet on what he assumed the bottom was on the knapsack. "Remind me to never lend you my sleeping bag again."

Rolling her eyes, Mai just kicked at the bag with her boot. "Good luck trying to clean out your sleeping bag then."

The two cephalopods shot glares towards one another, the sleeping bag sagging to the side thanks to the several Inkbrushes sticking out the top. With a heavy sigh, Phish just shook his head and walked over towards the sleeping bag, Mai leaning on the tent behind it. She glanced over at the still snoozing Inkling squad-mates and hummed, arching an eyebrow at a few stained faces.

"Hey." She murmured suspiciously, arching an eyebrow. "Where'd you guys hop off to yesterday? I heard an explosion."

" _Oh, we just murdered one of your kin."_ Phish thought to himself. "We splatted an octopus."

He then wanted to punch himself just then and there. Briefly, Phish wondered whether or not he could call it off as a bluff, but the disturbed stare on Mai's face pretty much set it in stone. He just screwed over the only friendly relationship with the enemy he had ever gotten the chance to have. Before he could say anything in an attempt to change her mind, the octopus just sighed, raising her hands in the air with a shake of her head.

"Yeah. That was going to happen regardless, I guess." She spoke in a nonchalant demeanor, though her pained expression betrayed her voice. "So, how'd it feel?"

"Whoa, what?" Phish blinked in shock. "No, I wasn't the one who did it! It was- Uh…"

He hesitated, taking in consideration the slumbering squids laying on the grass behind him. If relations grew sour with this Mai character, he might not be walking away with a full squadron of four. Worse came to worse, he could at least attempt to fend her off. He might be able to-

"Gruesome, huh?"

Once again, his train of thought was stopped short. "...What?"

Leaning on the side of the tent, the Octoling just crossed her arms and closed her eyes, taking in a breath in the brisk, morning air. "Not a fan of that, really. Sure, I'd beat someone up if they'd get too close for comfort, but…"

All of a sudden, it started to click. "You...don't like war?"

Mai laughed a single time before she shot him a smirk. "I'm not too fond of shooting people or being shot at, you know. I can't imagine anyone fighting to the death for fun. Sure, maybe like the occasional beatdown-"

Shaking his head at the mention of a 'beatdown', Phish just cocked an eyebrow at her curiously. "So then, why are you here?"

Fiddling with her Octoling Goggles dangled around her neck, Mai sighed. "Look, Phish, I'm not exactly sure who is in the wrong or the right here. But because of someone's dumb decision, now we all have to play a game we don't wanna play. You guys aren't the only one with a draft."

Phish stood across from her, flabbergasted. "How did you-"

"Mentioned something about it in your sleep." She pointed out.

"...You listened to me sleep?" He asked with a frown plastered on his face.

Mai smirked back, tousling her short tentacles. "It's easy for me when I have to listen to someone who speaks as loud as you."

"You know, I'm starting to regret the whole, 'spare you' thing." Phish muttered, adjusting his tie.

"You know you love me." She chuckled, leaning back on the tent. "Besides, I was the one with the gun."

Shaking his head, he just sat down on the grass, legs stretched out lazily. "Alright, you were saying something about a draft?"

"Hmm?" She muttered, flicking the bristles on an Inkbrush sticking out of the sleeping bag. "Oh, right. So, obviously not all of us are bloodthirsty. I mean, just look at me-"

A skeptical glance was shot in her direction. As she pursed her lips, Mai laid a hand by her side and continued, a smug grin fired back in response.

"Like I said, we're not all looking to splat people. A few of us are still pretty fond of Inklings, actually. I think a few used to be best buds." She smirked while staring at the bright blue sky above them.

A brief memory of the Octoling wearing her goggles properly back on the battlefield crossed Phish's mind, and he shuddered in remembrance. "Hard to imagine."

"Yeah, well, war does that to people. Screws them over, sets bad examples." Mai scowled, crossing her arms. "If I were in charge of this whole war thing, I'd just make it so that at the most, you can fistfight."

"I don't think I'd really enjoy sitting in the ring with you." Phish muttered, glancing at the sky alongside her. "Being punched doesn't seem like something I'd rather do than sit on grass."

She just smirked, petting the sleeping bag as if it were her own little furry companion. "I guess that's true. If we do get out of this alive, then maybe I can challenge you to a rematch."

"No." Phish answered simply.

That seemed to elicit a few giggles from the other cephalopod. Phish could not help but give a small smile. She was not exactly the most...sympathetic, but at least she was not plotting to tear him limb from limb. At least, he hoped.

As he sat there on the grass and continued to hope, out of the corner of his eye, he could notice someone stirring. Gulping, he noticed Ophi's wooden creature necklace jiggle slightly, whether it was due to the wind or the Inkling waking, he certainly did not want to test it. Glancing back at Mai, he could see alarm clear in her eyes.

"Hide!" He whispered frantically.

With a nod, Mai turned around towards the tent and shrunk into her violet octopus form, curly tentacles propelling her up into the air. She sunk into the comforts of Phish's sleeping bag, hiding herself inside instantly.

Phish started scowling as ink began dripping from the bristles of the rustled Inkbrushes. _"Not what I had in mind, but you whatever. You'd better pray that it works."_

"Morning, Phish." A sleepy female voice yawned from behind him.

Perking up somewhat, Phish spun around, greeted by a messily organized pair of long blue tentacles drooping down from the sides of a squid girl's head. Ophi looked disheveled, as if she had jumped straight into a hurricane. Subconsciously, Phish remembered that there was no mirror around, and wondered if he looked even worse.

"...Who were you talking to?" Ophi asked, adjusting her necklace so that the animal did not have to suffer staying on its back for the rest of the day.

Phish hesitated, taking a quick glance back. The Octoling was hidden, to be sure, but his knapsack was a disaster zone in itself. Grimacing, he repeated in his mind that he would never lend her that again to make sure he would never forget.

He turned back around, facing Ophi, and cleared his throat. "The sleeping bag."

Even as sleepy as she was, Ophi still cocked an eyebrow in obvious suspicion. "...You were having a private conversation...with your sleeping bag?"

Phish bit his lip. He was starting to sound like Portic. "...Yes."

Thank Cod for stupid excuses. Ophi just shrugged and shot him a smile. "Well, come on. You'll be late for breakfast if you keep chatting with your bag."

A tinge of worry crossed his hearts. "Breakfast?"

For a brief moment, Phish sniffed the air, expecting a bonfire. Had she heard more than he had thought? However, his nostrils picked up nothing but the scent of grass and outdoors. He gave Ophi a deadpan look.

The female Inkling just blushed and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Well, if I had started, you know."

Rolling his eyes, Phish gave her a small nod of acknowledgement. The female Inkling walked over to the long inactive fire pit, smouldered with soot and ash, the wind brushing the bits of debris away. Nearby, a still snoozing Portic and Rinse rolled aimlessly in their knapsacks, possibly captivated by the hold of a dream or two.

Without hesitation, Ophi crouched down by the fire pit, taking hold of a fistful of grass. "Hope you like canned fish." She spoke up, glancing at Phish's sea-life adorned tie.

From behind her, she took out a small, flat, cylindrical can with cartoon-styled fish swimming around almost as aimlessly as the other squids did. Phish frowned, adjusting his tie almost bashfully.

"Better than nothing, I suppose." He muttered, sitting down by the pit as Ophi worked to set it alight.

* * *

Portic dreamed that he was flying. Floating around the clouds with nothing but his clothes and a big old smile, he drifted among the cloud layer without a care in the world. He flew over a budding city skyline, he flew over a generic river somewhere unimportant, he flew across a giant question mark, he flew across a random hooded dude, and he flew over some other references I could not be bothered to add. There was also an orange, heavy-set bird who would flap by and yell, "Tweet, tweet!" at the top of its lungs periodically.

He was having the time of his life.

"I'm having the time of his- Uh, I mean, my life!" Portic shouted in a cheer.

Then he was blasted out of the sky. A blue, thin bullet blasted straight through him, puncturing his lungs. He coughed, and suddenly, he began to fall straight towards the ground. He yelped, attempting to flap between fits of coughing. A glint on the ground below managed to catch his eye throughout the freefall. A Bamboozler was pointed at him, taking aim, expertly poised. Each shot that rang out met its mark, smacking Portic's limbs off as if they were wet clay attached to a weak mannequin. Finally, after his head was knocked off of his body, still screaming madly, mind you, his face began to gain acceleration as it sped up towards the ground below him.

"Ow! Jeez!" He yelled as he smacked into the floor unceremoniously.

Head still rolling, he was starting to get dizzy. It was one thing to completely detach his brain from his body, but it was another thing to not catch him as he fell. Shaking the daze off, he just stared up at the marksman who so rudely sniped him to pieces. His eyes still attached to his head grew wide.

Aiming down at him, finger on the trigger, was Rinse. A puff of smoke burst out of his nostrils as he spoke, "See you."

* * *

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuugh!" Portic screamed, hopping straight out of his sleeping bag.

Once he had left the comforts of his knapsack, he began to brandish it similarly to his Bamboozler, as if he were waiting for yet another pitch. However, the lack of any backbone to begin with in the sleeping bag just caused it to flop towards the ground. Nevertheless, he swung it around, spooked at the prospect of his friend sniping him in his sleep, with a shout each time he attempted to smack anything.

As soon as he edged close to the center of the camp, however, he was stopped with a familiar, "Whoa!"

Portic paused mid-swing, staring down at a pair of Inklings sitting around a bonfire, waiting for a fish suspended over a fire on a stick. Phish and Ophi sat cross-legged, the both of them leaning towards the fish, an empty can discarded by the fire.

"...Oh! Hi guys!" Portic grinned, a torrent of sweat dripping down his face.

Phish eyed the beads of sweat curiously. "...You sleep alright?"

Portic gulped, tossing his bag to the side away from the flames. "Oh, oh yeah! Had a great dream. A killer dream."

"Glad to hear it, Portic." A voice boomed behind him.

"Aah!" He yelped, immediately smacking the person behind him, eyes shut.

Eye cracking open slowly, he noticed that his hand had left quite the intimidating mark on an even more intimidating Inkling. Rinse blinked, puffing his right cheek out under where he had been slapped silly. Immediately, the torrent of sweat that was dripping from Portic's face began to shift into a waterfall. He smirked towards Rinse, rubbing his face nonchalantly.

Yawning quite a hefty yawn, he just took up a seat by the fire, the other two Inklings already seated glancing at each other worriedly. Their worries were just put to rest (though for Phish it just raised more questions) when he simply stretched his arms and said, "Thanks for helping waking me up, Portic."

Portic then froze in place, glaring at him with a nervous mien. "..."

Rinse frowned, eyebrow cocking up in interest. "What?"

"Nothing!" The lean Inkling shrugged, a smile reemerging on his face. "Just- Glad to be alive! I mean awake! Let's have some breakfast, shall we!"

Once he finished, he just sat down on the grass, beaming as politely as Inkling facial structure could manage. Rinse turned towards him, about to ask something. His immediate answer was Portic nonchalantly sliding away from him, folding his hands together tightly.

"...Portic?" Rinse spoke up, towards the other Inkling, embers hopping underneath the unfortunate fish being roasted on a spit.

Portic turned his head slowly and cautiously, as if he wanted to keep it firmly stuck where it belonged. "...Yes?"

"Are you sure you're fine? You look somewhat pale." He muttered, eyeing the nervous-looking Inkling.

"Uh...overexposure to moonbeams?" He suggested with a goofy smirk, contradictory to his uneasy posture.

Phish coughed in the background and muttered something under his breath. Rolling her eyes, Ophi just scolded him and smacked his shoulder with the back of her head and whispered, "Hush." much more clearly than Phish's speech.

Instead of the others' initial reactions, Rinse just shook his head. "No. Had any trouble sleeping last night?"

"I had a nightmare." He blurted out, though it seemed much more relaxed as it escaped from his mouth compared to how the rest of him felt.

Instead of smirks and glares, most of them just stared at him, interest piqued. He coughed, smirking in their stead, attempting to shrug as if it was no big deal.

Rinse leaned on the grass, still facing Portic. "What about?"

Portic pursed his lips. _"Is there a rule against telling people your dreams or something?"_ But try as he might to keep it silent, he just blurted out once more. "I was shot?"

Rinse nodded in understanding, sitting back up straight. "Yeah, I suppose if you're in a war, that will plague your dreams for some time. Don't fret. I'll protect you."

The other Inkling felt as though he should nod. But considering that he was the one who technically shot him, that was probably not the best reassurance to use.

After the fish stopped cooking, it was divided into four pieces, one that each of them gobbled up in an instant. For something so small, it was surprisingly filling. Though, whether that was thanks to the fish or just their imaginative appetites. While they munched, Phish noticed that his sleeping bag was getting somewhat restless. It hopped up and down, the others hardly noticing the bizarre activity. While the others ate around him, he glanced down at the remaining slice that was left in his hands. With a sigh, he just tossed it off towards the bag, where chewing noises ensued.

Wiping her face clean of any remaining crumbs, Ophi sighed in content, clearing her throat slightly. "Hah…."

The sound of grass rustling followed. Blinking, Ophi found herself seated around a circle of Inklings who stared at her eagerly.

"...What?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, what?" Portic repeated, "What's the plan, Stan?"

Ophi blinked again with pursed lips. "...What?"

"The plan." He reiterated, leaning forward. "I mean, you're like the leader at this point, you know that?"

All eyes were set on Ophi, and each head that carried said eyes nodded in response, a unanimous agreement passed in the form of murmurs. An uneasiness grew in her chest as she looked from each face. It was as if the awkwardness that Portic carried moments prior had been transferred directly to her. Quite frankly, she did not like it in the slightest.

Then again, this could very well be her chance to shine. After all, the Portic and Rinse duo had done nothing but ignore her warnings. Clearing her throat, she stood up straight, each of the Inklings (and eavesdropping octopus) devoting their eyes and ears to her for lack of anything better to do.

"Alright, so, the second day in a war, and we've all survived." She sighed, managing a short smile. "How are you feeling?"

She was met with rather distressed and uneasy looks.

"Right." She murmured, tapping on her necklace nervously. "Well, we've survived, and that's the good part. The bad part is that there is probably a bunch of octopuses headed for us, if your guys' shirts are any indication."

Glancing down at his brown overalls, Portic rubbed the violet ink stuck to him with his thumb, scowling. "They attacked us first."

"They did," Rinse spoke up with a harsher tone, "We were just defending ourselves."

Ophi raised her hands and shook them rapidly. "No no, I'm not saying you DID anything, I'm just saying we're going to have to prepare or something. There's probably like a hundred Octarians headed towards us. One of the last defense for Inkopolis. Four teenagers."

Thus, the silence reentered the atmosphere, blanketing the group in a shroud of awkwardness, grass, and clouds.

"...You're doing a bang-up job of cheering us up, Ophi." Phish muttered, shaking his head.

Ophi frowned back at him. "It's not my fault no one else wanted to stay and help defend! We need more Inklings to back us up."

Rinse nodded in agreement and stood up, the wind blowing past his tied up tentacles. "Right. I don't believe that we can be the only defensive squad out there."

"Yeah!" Portic joined in, hopping up. "When Rinse and I were volunteering, we saw huge crowds! There was this one guy with like a crew cut or something, then there was this one guy with white tentacles and an Inkbrush, he was like some sort of master with it-"

"Okay, so then I think we're all set on what we need to do." Ophi cut in, much to Portic's disappointment. "We need to find more troops and fast."

She looked out at the other Inklings. Three nods responded back slowly but surely, each and everyone of them standing up. Portic beamed at her, giving her a thumbs-up, Rinse went off to find his weapon, and Phish gave her a reluctant nod. The single female Inkling in the squadron smiled. It seemed as though they were finally set on a game plan.

At least, until Portic shouted, "Whoa!"

The lean Inkling started gazing in awe across the hills. The rest of the Inklings whirled around, following his line of sight across the knolls. Their mouths gaped open. Limping across the hills was a young woman, her tentacles drooping down, swinging about without much enthusiasm to them. Beaten down and bruised, she walked across the land, staring at the ground, a helmet held close to her side. She was covered in a variety of ink, from the friendly blue to the dangerous violet. Her gaze eventually shifted from the ground, up to the camp, where her eyes, wrapped in the trademark Inkling black mask, grew wide, whether from shock, amazement, or relief was unsure.

"...Commander?" Ophi whispered, watching her limp.

Upon noticing the other Inkling's lips move, the commanding Inkling officer smiled. Then, she fell, face first, onto the ground, unmoving. They just stared at her for a minute, a newfound discomfort churning through their veins.

"...Well." Phish muttered despondently. "Looks like we'll have to make do."

* * *

AN: Apologies for the delay, yes, a rather hectic schedule as usual. I wish all I had to worry about, work-wise were these stories so that I could dedicate more time to pouring my attention in them. Oh well, life's life I suppose.

Life aside, let's take a look at some reviews. Thanks Deku Scrublord and CastilloBlanca for reviewing!

I guess I can't blame you, Deku Scrublord. I can't say Mai is exactly the most agreeable of archetypes for everyone. But I appreciate you taking an interest in my story!

Thanks for your detailed synopsis, CastilloBlanca. I'm really glad that I could capture something unique in my story. If I'm not referencing something, then I try my best to make things at least somewhat unique. So thank you for noticing all the little characters and the story.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


	9. Wakey Wakey

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Wakey Wakey**

She laid flat on the grass by the extinguished fire pit, looking...dead tired. The four of the humanoid squids stared down at the unconscious commander. Her long tentacles were still beaten and chewed as if they had just been dragged under a conveyor belt. The tan vest she wore was splashed with a corrosive violet and a fading blue, her eyes shut blissfully.

"Basically, she was looking great." Phish muttered, crossing his arms.

"Phish, give me a hand." Ophi called out, raising the slack arms of their commander using her own.

Arching his eyebrow, he stared at her somewhat reluctantly as she slung about the unmoving Inkling, their other two squadmates watching them curiously. "...Er."

Shooting an incredulous glare at Phish, Ophi gave Phish a glare that definitely meant something along the lines of, "Get the shell over here", albeit much more politely. Adjusting his tie bashfully, Phish walked over through the short grass. Making his way over to the pair of female Inklings, he took the left arm of their commander carefully, the both of them dragging her over towards the tent while the other two watched.

" _I never asked for this."_ He thought as he glared back at them, the two walking back, pretending as though it were nothing to worry about.

Sneaking a quick glance into the insides of the tent, Ophi hummed. "Wow Phish. Did you clean out the weapons tent?"

Phish repeated her glance into the test. Within the folds of the tent, the fabric stretching across was mostly barren, the only indication of there any being any weapons in the there being a few drops of multicolored ink. However, with a grimace, Phish realized that his own sleeping bag would be due for a cleaning. Hoisting their fallen commander inside, they maneuvered carefully around the ink left in the tent, eventually setting her down on a clean patch of fabric.

Frowning, Ophi stared down at her. She murmured softly and incoherently in the midst of her impromptu slumber. "Hey, why don't you step outside for a bit?"

"...You just asked me to carry her here and now you're asking me to get out." Phish muttered with a glare.

Ophi shook her head. "Someone's going to have to examine her injuries. By that, it means looking her up and down, glancing at her skin…"

She let the words hang in the air for a while. A grimace grew on Phish's face. "Oh."

"Mm." Ophi nodded in response, waving towards the entrance of the tent. "I'd recommend getting some air and I'll just do the rest."

Pursing his lips, Phish stared at her with a frown. "...Are you a doctor?"

Ophi shook her head with a smile. "No, but I am female. I'd think I'd be able to give a better diagnosis. And not bleed from the nose from seeing skin."

"That's a myth." Phish said while crossing his arms.

"You can never be too careful." Ophi shrugged with a smile, which quickly shifted into that of a frown. "But seriously, get out."

Ophi's shift in attitude was all that he needed. With a curt nod, Phish turned around and stumbled out of the tent, taking care not to step in the multi-colored ink that laid around the room in drying puddles. As he left the folds of the tent, sunlight streamed in from the clouds. Glancing over towards the extinguished fire pit, he noticed a pair of Inkling teammates staring up at the clouds, speaking to one another as they laid facing up. Rinse pointed at each cloud nonchalantly, probably describing the weather patterns, while Portic laid at his side, nodding nervously each time he pointed as if he were brandishing a gun.

All the while, Phish took the time to stare down at his shoes. A grimace etched in his features, he realized that the Slip-On shoes that he had purchased just before the draft took effect was doused in green, violet, and blue. Raising his foot, he shook the shoe, the color still sticking to his footwear.

"Great." He muttered, lowering his foot back down on the grass.

"Wow man." A familiar, feminine voice commented next to him. Phish turned towards his own sleeping bag, where an Inkbrush stuck out like a sore thumb. "You really should have worn socks."

Phish rolled his eyes and turned towards the knapsack. "Mai, come on."

The sleeping bag rustled in place until a violet tentacle popped up, connected to a face with violet pupils. Mai yawned, stretching her right arm over the side of the sleeping bag. "What's up?"

"Our commanding officer was just brought in. She's knocked out. Everyone else is probably dead. An army of octopuses is heading to splat us all." Phish spoke as he glared at the head poking out of the sleeping bag. "It's not looking great."

Mai's head did not seem to mind much and just shrugged from within the folds of the sleeping bag. "Is that it?"

Sighing, Phish folded his hands together. "Mai, you're probably exempt from their wrath, but we on the other hand, are screwed."

"Ah, but are you?" She suggested with a smirk, bobbing her eyebrows up and down. Phish's own eyebrows twitched in response, and not in a friendly way.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure we are." He sighed with a shake of his head. "Unless you have one of those spare Octoweapons around."

Mai's eyes hardened in response. "...Nope. Those things aren't exactly reliable, you know."

A brief image of the laser that nearly shredded him and Ophi crossed his mind. "I wouldn't say that."

Mai scoffed and took a precursory glance around the field at the other Inklings which remained staring up at the clouds. "I never understood how those things worked. They run on electricity and that is it."

Phish sighed and stared out at the grass fields. "Hm."

Mai frowned as she stared up at the Inkling's face. Phish had his eyes on the knolls opposite to the camp, as if expecting a full scale attack to erupt at any moment.

With a smirk, she raised her arm out of the bag and smacked him on the leg. "Hey, don't sweat it, Phishy."

"'Phishy'." He repeated with a bitter glance towards the head poking out of his designated bag of comfort.

"With any luck, they'll just pass over you guys." Mai spoke with the calmest voice she could manage. "I mean, what's a squad of four to an army of thousands?"

"...Are you on my side or not?" Phish asked, fiddling with his tie irritably.

With a shrug, the Octoling began to lower her head back into the recesses of the bag. "I'm on no one's side."

As her head vanished into the bag, rustling both the knapsack and the grass below it, Phish leaned on the side of the tent and covered his head with his hands, all the while with a mutter under his breath.

"But between you and me," A violet octopus head popped back out of the bag, startling Phish, "If you don't want to get splatted into a puddle on the ground, then I'd recommend trying to find more squids to help."

"Where?" Phish interjected, throwing his hands up into the air. "I have no idea where to find any other troops. We were literally told that we were one of- If not the last line of the defense for Inkopolis!"

As he finished, he gestured towards a green tower behind several miles of grass and dirt. Eyebrows arching up, Mai followed Phish's hand, eventually taking notice of the tower. It was hardly a remarkable piece of architecture at the moment. It was practically a green skeleton, surrounded by several smaller bony buildings yet to be completed. Yet at the top, against all odds, there was a shining light, a beacon of sorts that glowed even in the bright crack of day.

Pursing her lips, she then glanced up at Phish's face. The Inkling that stood by her was young. Yet over the course of about a day, he had survived several close encounters that should have left him sprawled out in the grass. Here he was, talking straight to his enemy, with stained shoes and brown eyes that looked as though they were on the verge of breaking.

Mai reached out and pat his leg as reassuring as possible. Phish lowered his hand and gave a strange look at the Octoling, who simply grinned in response. "No one ever said war would be easy, Green Feet. But, for what it's worth, I think you'll make it out alright."

Phish shot a glare down to his shoes and grimaced at the stains. "...Sure."

As he looked back up towards the Octoling, he noticed that her head no longer poked out of the sleeping bag. The knapsack rustled slightly, causing the Inkbrush sticking out to drip. Unlike before, the bristles were turned away from the bag, lime ink left on the brush dripping and drying out the grass instead of his "sleeping quarters". Phish stared at the sky for a solid minute, watching the same clouds as his comrades.

Eventually, as Phish spotted one that resembled some a tidal wave, (Portic shouted something along the lines of "Booyah!" as it rolled by) the tent flaps shuddered, and out came Ophi, who wiped sweat off of her head as she walked out. Phish turned to greet her, and to that extent, so did Rinse and Portic, who nearly trampled over one another just reaching the tent.

"How's she doing?" Portic asked curiously.

"Well, she's bruised from head to toe, has a bunch of cuts, and there's a nasty red welt under her helmet." She inhaled sharply through her teeth, practically mimicking everyone's morale with the sound of the air whistling.

Phish bit his lip. "...Not great, huh?"

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, Ophi smiled. "Until I placed her in a puddle of ink. She's healing rather nicely now that she's bathing in her color."

"Oh, right." Phish muttered to himself.

Inkling regeneration may be confusing-

"It is confusing." Phish spoke up once more, startling the rest of the Inklings.

Ophi tilted her head in confusion. "What is?"

"Uh, it's nothing" He spoke up immediately with a shake of his head. "So, she's perfectly fine?"

The female member of the crew folded her arms and shot a glance in the direction of the insides of the tent. "Well, she's only been lying in the puddle for about a minute…"

Suddenly, the sound of someone choking emerged from the tent. Immediately, everyone turned towards the insides worriedly.

"...Did your treatment work last time?" Rinse asked with an eyebrow cocked.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms behind her back, leaning back and forth unsteadily. "This was...this was my first time trying it."

The four of them stood there in silence as splashing noises and more coughing emanated from the tent. Without a second thought, the whole of them began to rush into the tent like Phish and Rinse switched into squid form and charged in. None of them were sure what to do or how to treat her, but regardless of the finer details, they would stop at nothing-

To stare at her as she bathed in a pool of blue ink.

She was still fully clothed and multiple cuts still laid on her skin, but she appeared serene as she lounged in the ooze as if it were a bathtub. Despite her relaxing situation, her green pupils stared at the grass outside with a morose nostalgia as she felt her fresh scars, which seemingly vanished from her neck and face as she bathed. She held her right hand by her neck and her left in front of her face, a glob of blue dripping from her mouth. Then, with shock evident in her pupils, she noticed the other squids crowding at the entrance, each stacked on top of one another as they stared at her.

Portic frowned as he eyed her sitting in the ink and landed on the thin floor of the tent. "Aww, man, what a letdown."

Ophi gave him a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" Turning back towards their commander, immediately the squadron dispersed into a much less cluttered and much more organized group of four, with Ophi at the helm. "Er, how are you feeling, commander?"

"...Mm." She murmured, blinking at them slowly.

"I think she's still recovering from the shock." Ophi muttered to the others.

Phish leaned his head back. "I thought you said you weren't experienced in medical training."

"I'm not!" She exclaimed with a frown. "It's just- I'm guessing, okay? I'm testing-"

"...Calm down." A much gentler voice graced them all.

Out of surprise, the entire Inkling squadron ceased their squabbling and redirected their gazes towards the other Inkling. A battered helmet, covered in scratches as well as dollops of fuchsia ink laid at the side of the blue ink. Even as the commander attempted to brush her tentacles back, she winced considerably and would lean back in the ink each time she did. Phish had to remind himself that this was their commander sitting in front of them.

They were royally screwed, he thought to himself.

Of course, his commander started to speak. "...It's not looking good, is it?"

Her voice was trying so hard. Unlike the day before where she was willing to take on the world with her troops, she seemed much less enthusiastic to go busting octopus heads. As he watched her frailer movements, Phish noticed her effects she had on the rest of them. It was just subtle movements, but everything, from the way she talked, the melancholy way she stared at them, it was rather overwhelming. He swore he could see tears threatening in Ophi's eyes.

" _No, it's perfectly fine. I'm sure if we just waltz up to them and ask them to forgive us, this will all blow over fine."_ He thought to himself, all the while thanking Cod that he did not blurt that out like last time. Instead he shook his head.

She sighed once and sank back into her puddle, leaving just her head exposed. "I'm sorry. Had I known about them, I wouldn't have been so hasty."

"So…" Ophi murmured, a sinking feeling emerging, "The others…"

"If I'd have to wager a guess, only a small percentage of them got to respawn." She sighed, shaking her head. "We only have a handful of points in Inkopolis, and most of them were ruined from previous attacks. Not to mention, to conserve our energy, we'd have to shut most of them off."

"They're gone." Ophi concluded with a sickened expression.

With a weak pound on the floor of the tent the commander gritted her teeth. "They had stronger leaders...we were all gone before we knew what hit us."

"' _Leaders'?"_ Phish thought to himself, glancing at the other two male Inklings. The same worried expression flashed between the trio, no doubt thinking back towards the rather unstable Octoling that had encountered the night before.

"Cod, I feel awful." She choked back a sob, a drip of blue slowly falling down her chin. "I failed them."

The squadron was not sure how to respond. For a moment, everyone turned towards Portic hopefully. Said Inkling glanced at the others incredulously and shot them looks as if to say, "What the heck do you want me to say?!". Nevertheless, the four turned back to their lounging commander who sat back in the puddle, her eyelids fluttering and tentacles drooping.

"...I know. Not great news, huh?" She smiled sadly, "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. Not like I could in this condition."

She gestured towards her miniature lake and gave a short laugh. The three males simultaneously stared at one another, faces fixated with unease. With an offer like that, how could one refuse? The especially anxious grin on Portic's face signaled that he was probably ready to hightail it towards the horizon and never look back.

"No."

Just then and there, everyone's plans shifted. Out of surprise, all sets of eyes in the room gravitated towards a necklace wearing Inkling whose hazel eyes glistened hopefully.

Even their commander appeared as though she were taken aback at the sudden outburst, eyes growing as wide as one who was just shot. "...Wha-"

Ophi shook her head again. "No! I-I mean, we can't!"

On that instant, Portic chimed in. "Ophi, I don't wanna be that guy, but I'm pretty sure you're having a delusional meltdown."

"Well, um, then so are you!" She pointed towards the squid lounging in the azure sludge, thoroughly startling the rest of them. "We can't let them just roll over us! If we give up, then what about the rest of them back home? We're not just fighting for ourselves, you know, we're fighting for our family! Our friends! Are we just going to go home and say, 'We tried' while an army advances on us?"

Phish scowled and pivoted towards her. "So what, we'll just run towards the enemy with sticks?"

"Phish!" Ophi shouted at him, the other two squadmates shuffling away in discomfort.

"That's enough!" The commander's voice rose.

The argument ceased almost as soon as it had started and the rest of the Inklings spun towards the female in the pool. She was glaring at them, but her emerald irises had a specific target in mind. Gaze landing on Ophi, immediately it became a staring contest between females, much to Ophi's discomfort.

"Sorry commander." She glowered down towards the floor.

"Don't be." The commander smiled in response, much to the others' surprise. "What's your name again, miss?"

"Um, Ophelia Coddlin." She admitted with a quick bow.

"Heh." She closed her eyes. "Feel free to call me Sumera…if only we had more like you...maybe the western front…"

Ophi blinked once and gawked at the other female. "Commander?!"

"...Mm." She hummed peacefully, leaning back. "Go find the western front, commander."

She then promptly smacked the back of her head on the soft floor, her hand dangled next to her face. She continued to soak, albeit unconsciously in the goop. The other four standing by had gaping mouths and shocked expressions.

"...I…" Ophi murmured slowly, attempting to raise a finger.

Portic's gaze hardened considerably. "...Well, I suppose that only leaves one thing left to do." As soon as he finished, he waltzed over to Ophi, gripped her arm, and raised it high. "All hail the new commander!"

Swiftly, Ophi retracted her appendage and rushed over towards the other female. Placing her ear by Sumera's chest, she listened intently, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she stood back up. "She's fine...she fell back unconscious."

"That's our commander! Quick thinking!" Portic grinned with a gesture directed towards Ophi.

"Don't call me that!" Ophi snapped suddenly, the other Inkling backing away. She sighed, massaging her temples. "I'm sorry, it's just...I need to get some air."

After she finished that, she headed for the grass outside, brushing past the three other Inklings. As she walked out, Portic perked up, following suit with a brisk jog. Rinse and Phish shared a cursory glance outwards, then, with a grunt, Rinse walked out as well, leaving the remaining troop in the tent with the other Inkling. Now alone with their unconscious commander, Phish fidgeted with his tie as he stared at her ungraceful pose on the floor. Looking around, he began walking towards her around several other colored puddles until he was right above her.

Reaching down into the blue resting spot, he reached at her right hand, submerged in the ink, and dragged it out, placing it by Sumera's head and bit his lip. "...Yeah."

Finished with that, he sprinted out of the tent and stopped directly outside as the inviting glow of sunlight showered upon him once more. In the distance, he noticed the three other Inklings speaking in a small huddle on the grass. Quite a few choice words were tossed around, a lot of them being shrill squeaks from a distraught Ophelia, to which Portic made several jabbing motions. As always, Rinse just remained silent. Phish swore that he could notice a bird nesting in his head.

He blew air out through his teeth then leaned on the side of the tent and stared down at the sleeping bag. "It's a mess, huh Mai?"

The sleeping bag did not respond, much to his surprise. For a moment, he thought that Mai had fallen asleep-

"Yeah." Mai spoke up, leaning on the opposite side of him.

Phish jolted up into the air a short distance and landed by his knapsack. "What the- Mai! What are you doing out here?!"

"Getting fresh air." She yawned, waving at her face. "It was stuffy in that old bag."

"...Oh, whatever." Phish rolled his eyes, brushing off his shirt. "Although, you might want to go back. They could see you, you know."

"First off, you ain't the boss of me." She yawned, leaning on his shoulder with her elbow, all the while with a stare at the preoccupied Inklings in the distance. "Second of all, those guys are super oblivious. Heck, if I wanted to, I could probably pick each one of 'em off right now."

Phish rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"You doubting me?" Mai arched her eyebrows.

"...No." Phish shook his head quickly.

All of a sudden, Mai reached at Phish's side, where he had her Octoshot holstered. Without warning, she aimed it forward, one eye shut and the other set on the targets. Phish bit his lip, reaching out for the ink weapon.

"Bam." She stated simply, bouncing the gun barrel as if she had fired a bullet of ink without pulling the trigger. They were perfectly fine. She turned towards Rinse next after "assassinating" the other two. "Bam. Bam."

Finally, she tilted the Octoshot straight behind her towards Phish's face. She then took the time to bend backwards, her face facing his. Reaching up with her free left hand, she poked Phish's nose. "Bam."

Scowling, Phish's eyes began narrowing. "Ha."

"Eh, don't worry." She spoke up as she reached across him, depositing the Octoshot by his side. She straightened up, looking less like a noodle. "You'll get better. Might even get as good as yours truly."

"Oh, joy." He spoke in a monotone and shook his head at her. "Murder."

With a wink, Mai walked back towards the sleeping bag. "You know it, Phishy."

Switching into a violet octopus, she hopped back inside of the comfortable portable cushion. Phish sighed, then stared back towards the other Inklings. It appeared as though they had finished their discussion and were headed straight towards him with varied facial expressions.

Ophi stopped in front of him, the other two waiting on either side of her. "Alright. Well, Portic, Rinse and I have been talking. I'll be frank, I don't like our odds."

"I'm sure we can take them." Portic smirked with a newfound pride. "After all, we have our new commander can lead us to vic-"

The "new commander's" facial expression grew sour. Rinse reached his arm over and smacked Portic's arm.

"Uh, well, you know." Portic frowned and rubbed his arm, shooting a short glare at the more intimidating Inkling. "We agree that if that didn't work, we'd go west and see what that whole 'front' thing was about."

"'Front thing'?" Phish tilted his head questionably.

Rinse walked forward. It was as if a boulder was ready to speak. "There could be other remaining Inklings."

"There 'could' be?" Phish repeated yet again.

He nodded in response. "If the Octarians have not reached them yet, that is."

Ophi nodded with him. "We're packing up for it, just in case. We'll wait for Sum-" She hesitated. "...The commander to wake up first, of course, but if there is another 'front', we'll need to get going. We're going to need to get all of the help we can get...if you'll help, that would be great."

Yet another "what if". Phish was starting to get somewhat sick of those. "What if" we manage to survive, "what if" there are other Inklings, "what if" this, "what if" that. Quite frankly, it was more of a matter of, "Just let me not die right now". Of course, the only way to ensure that would be to fight a bunch of octopuses. He did not know how to fight. He certainly did not want to fight.

But he was getting tired of all of this second guessing at the moment.

Standing up straight, he adjusted his tie, and stared dead straight at Ophi. "When are we heading out?"

By her side, Portic grinned in response, giving him a silent thumbs-up. Rinse gave yet another curt nod. Ophi stared at him, her eyes glistening and her mouth smiling brightly.

"As soon as she wakes up." Ophi said, walking up to Phish slowly. He did not expect the hug that came soon after. "Thanks Phish."

Phish scowled. They were probably going to die on the way there, but to heck with it. "You're welcome."

* * *

AN: Thus the journey for assistance begins.

Thanks Lean for reviewing! Thanks for the short words of support.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you later.


	10. The Roadblock

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **The Roadblock**

It was a mildly day with plenty of clouds in the sky with a fresh, cool, comforting breeze whistling among the sweet droplets of water sitting on the many blades of grass below. Ophi was sweating frantically.

Of course she had to be given the greatest responsibility. She of all people. Probably one of the only Inklings left alive. Given the title of commander. She had not even shot anyone yet. All throughout the rest of the day, she tried to convince herself that Sumera was just delusional.

Sumera. She knew the commander's name after just a few days.

Ophi shook her head. _"She just needs rest,"_ She reassured herself for what felt like the hundredth time.

She glanced towards the tent. Portic was already set on folding it back until a flat, compact package, unhooking the stakes from the ground quickly. As the tent began to collapse, Rinse emerged from the inside, with their commander slung over his back.

If it were any other situation, Ophi might have stood in terror as a shifty, lean Inkling sabotaged their tent while a larger, burlier one carried the woman to their doom. The thought might have been comical, had it not been for the fact that this was her squadron.

Portic was thin, but the way he hopped from place to place like he so often made her wonder if he hid a stack of candies under his sleeping bag. She wondered whether or not he was willing to share. Then there was Rinse. It was not hard to believe that he would volunteer for a war of this magnitude. He was not exactly a heavy-set guy, but he just radiated...anger? Terror? Something like that. Plus, the way he carried the commander over his shoulder was also unnerved Ophi.

"Hey." Speak of the devil, Rinse spoke up right next to her, thoroughly startling Ophi who spun around to meet him with a smile plastered on her face.

"Yes?" Ophi squeaked much more timid than she would have hoped.

Sumera murmured something as she laid across his shoulder. He stretched his left arm somewhat and the commander's lips curled into a smile.

Across from them, as he folded up the flaps of the tent, Portic shouted, "I think she likes you, Rinse!"

He turned around and glared straight at the scrawnier Inkling. Portic paused and stared at him with a hint of worry. His worries melted when he noticed a very small smirk on the side of Rinse's face.

"Ah." Portic grinned with a nod as he returned to his duties. "Let me know when the wedding starts."

Rinse rolled his eyes and pivoted back towards Ophi. She looked akin to a deer in the headlights as he stared at her. "We're heading out soon."

Ophi blinked and shook her head. "Right, right."

Almost as if he could read her mind, Rinse gave her a smile, albeit much smaller than his amused smile. That worried her. "You'll be fine."

She bit her lip. As Rinse walked off towards the extinguished campfire and sat down by the ashes, Ophi hummed and searched around for something to do. She took note of the sleeping bags strewn about the ground. With a glance, she watched as Portic, now finished with his work, the tent now folded up into a small flat package, picked up the tent and walked off to join his buddy.

That left Ophi to herself. She stooped down and picked up her own raggedy sleeping bag that laid in the grass. She paused, then glanced at the other's knapsacks, then back to the other two Inklings. Rinse had laid their real commander down on the ground between him and Portic. The two conscious Inklings chatted amongst themselves, though Portic still looked somewhat shaken.

Ophi pursed her lips and glared down at the rest of the bags. _"Alright."_

She walked over to the pair of ruffled sleeping bags behind both Rinse and Portic. She crouched down and reached towards them both while she attempted to carry her own. Through a miniature struggle, she ended up with a stack of three sleeping bags stacked as neatly as she possibly could manage. It leaned over her head shakily.

Now with three sleeping bags in her grasp, she turned her attention towards the last one sat upright with an Inkbrush that stuck out, the ink dried and faded. She scowled and shook her head at the mess. As she walked over towards the sleeping bag, she briefly wondered how she would manage to incorporate it into her budding tower of comforts.

"No, wait!" Phish called out.

Ophi blinked and spun around slowly, a cautious eye on her sleeping bag pillar. Phish rushed over, his tie dangled around in the wind as he ran. He stopped down right next to his bag and lifted it himself, although he appeared to have some difficulty doing so. Ophi just stared at him in confusion.

He checked the insides of the bag, then breathed a sigh of relief, though the exasperated expression he wore was hardly glad to have his bag at all. Ophi continued to stare at him until he shot her an incredulous glare. "...What?"

"...Nothing." She murmured and walked off with a smirk. "I don't want to interrupt you."

Phish blushed and attempted to hide his face behind the messy knapsack. "I don't think you need to do that. We can all carry our own."

"Yeah, but, you know." Ophi shrugged to herself as she balanced the sleeping bags. "It sort of helps keeping everything in one place."

Phish sighed and carried the bag off with him towards the other two Inklings that sat in front of the ashes of the campfire. Ophi huffed and would have probably crossed her arms if her hands were not already full. She followed behind and the both of them eventually sat next to the other Inklings in the squadron. Rinse inspected his Bamboozler carefully while Portic kicked his legs up at the air aimlessly. Sumera just laid on the ground unconscious.

"...and that's basically my opinion on clouds." Portic finished neatly as he played with his Bamboozler.

Rinse scoffed as he finished. "Whatever floats your boat."

He grinned in response. "It totally does."

Portic laughed, though the way he shivered made Ophi wonder if he needed a jacket. It was not exactly the epitome of chilly out here. Though she supposed that if he irritated Rinse, there would be a good reason to shiver. Phish walked over towards the two and sat down next to Portic and laid his sleeping bag upright in front of him by the debris left by the flames. Finally, Ophi swallowed and jogged over with the stack of knapsacks. She positioned herself by Phish's side and caught him in the middle of rolling his eyes as she moved past him. In response, she gave him a light tap with her boot on his back which prompted Phish to check the back of his shirt; he rubbed the back as if it were stained with a grimace.

As she promptly fell on the grass next to the Inkling that fidgeted with his tie, Portic gazed at the makeshift tower she had and whistled. "Wow! For me?"

She rolled her eyes in response. "No, Portic. This is just to help keep everything in one place."

"I think it would've been easier if we all carried our own, honestly." Portic shrugged and laid back on the grass comfortably; the Inkling nestled his head into the plumes of green behind him and worked up a Portic-shaped groove.

Rinse nodded as he checked the barrel of the bamboo weapon. "Yeah. We could have carried them on our backs."

She bit her lip. Ophi stared at the ground in embarrassment. "Oh."

"...Er, I'm fine with that." Phish spoke up next to her.

Portic blinked and his head rose from the grass. "Hm?"

Phish gave the other two a look. The lean Inkling laid out in the grass perked up then tapped Rinse on the shoulder. He arched an eyebrow at him and through a brief though, Portic eyed the weapon he cleaned as if it would blast him afterwards.

Instead, Rinse just coughed and muttered, "Nevermind."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a pretty good idea." Portic grinned, "Why didn't I think of that? Genius idea."

Ophi perked up and glanced at Portic oddly. Just then, she noticed Phish turn away. A smirk crossed her face as Phish acquired a newfound interest in the dust and debris of the fire.

Across from them, Rinse cleared his throat. "...So...the western front?"

Sumera shuffled among the ground in her sleep somewhat uncomfortably as if she were tuned in via dream. Ophi cleared her throat. "Yeah...any ideas where it is?"

She looked among the group of Inklings, most of which just stared at each other cluelessly.

"...West?" Phish muttered under his breath.

A smile curled upon Sumera's face. Great, even their unconscious commander was getting a hoot out of this.

Before Ophi could respond, Rinse raised his hand. Motionless on his palm, he carried a flat, circular compass with two arrows that pointed north and south shakily.

Ophi blinked, rubbed her eyes, then stared in awe. "Rinse, where did you get that?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, then stared down at Sumera, who still napped on the ground next to them. "...Her pockets."

"Oh." Ophi murmured with a cautionary glance toward Sumera. If she could hear them through her sleep, she did not want to take chances. "Well, that's great! Assuming that the western front is just west of here, if we start now, I think we'll get there quickly enough!"

Phish frowned and glared at the ground. "We still don't know where the front is exactly. It could be close to Inkopolis-" He stared at the buildings being slowly constructed in the background wearily. "Or they could be farther ahead."

She simply shrugged in response. "If we do get lost out there, it won't matter much, will it? We'll still be camping somewhere. The important thing is finding the others."

"She's right." Rinse chimed in while he holstered his Bamboozler at his side of his shorts. "...Nothing's going to stop them from coming except for us."

"And preferably a whole bunch of other Inklings." Portic added as he stepped by Rinse's side.

Phish stopped and stared down at his legs crossed over each other as he sat. He closed his eyes for a bit and murmured wordlessly. After a few seconds, he shook his head with a sigh and got to his feet and kicked a few of the ashes of the fire away.

"I really hate these plans." He muttered, then stopped to adjust his tie fruitlessly.

Ophi smiled, then crouched down and hefted the sleeping bags in front of her. "Then it's settled. Let's head west!"

The only one who cheered was Portic. He took his Bamboozler and ran off with it and practiced swings at the ground. Rinse shook his head, stood up, and followed Portic, presumably to tell him he sprinted north by mistake. As Ophi lifted herself and three Inklings' worth of portable bedding, she noticed Phish peer into his own snooze sack, a miffed expression plastered on his face as he peeked inside.

"Hey," She attempted to wave, which was hard all if the plush comforts were to be considered. "You know, I can still carry that one if you need help."

Phish attempted to say something but fumbled somewhat uncertainly with his comforter. "Uh, I don't think that's the best idea."

Ophi frowned on the other side of her miniature tower. "Weren't you the same guy who said that THIS was fine?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything." Phish shrugged while he kept a careful eye on his own knapsack. "It's just that...er...I'm carrying at least half of our armoury in here."

She noticed the Inkbrush that jutted out of the top of the bag, the green ink left overnight dried. Perhaps she should not ask. "I guess that's...convenient?"

"Yep." Phish muttered as he hefted the bedroll.

Ophi was not sure why he was going to the trouble of carrying their weapons and she wanted to point out that there were only five of them, but something in his unnerved irises that glanced into the bag occasionally prompted her to simply ignore it. The both of them followed after Rinse and Portic up ahead as they charged towards the west, the duo ahead rushed without a second thought and kicked up grass as they sprinted.

* * *

Along the way, Phish wiped a bead of sweat off his head and sighed. "That was close."

"I'll say." Mai's voice called out from his sagged bedroll. "You almost screwed the pooch. Namely me."

"The shell's a pooch?" Phish asked his sleeping bag with a frown.

The six of them saw nothing but a bright brilliant blue and a healthy green canvas for about an hour and a half since they had packed up and left. Rinse looked more like a pack mule than anything (if they knew what pack mules had looked like) as he carried practically everything else aside from their sleeping bags. The tent, several weapons, and their downed commander stretched across his shoulders. Several of the weapons bounced up and down as he walked as well as Sumera's dual tendrils that draped down from her head onto the grass. Phish hoped that she did not mind grass stains.

Portic marched alongside him merrily in contrast with a fine tune whistled on his lips. Instead of any swing of the sort, now the lanky Inkling tossed and spun his Bamboozler as if it were a baton in a parade and Rinse were some kind of chaotic float. Phish turned around and noticed Ophi as she trailed behind the lot of them. She carried everyone's bedrolls dutifully, which Phish barely managed to suppress a smile to.

Then again, she is not in charge of carrying an Octoling stowaway and multiple, heavy weapons.

Speak of the devil, Mai spoke up, "It's a good thing your excuses don't entirely suck."

Phish furrowed his brow and stared down. "I didn't have a lot of choices! What if Ophi saw you?"

"I'd take chances if it meant landing me on top of that pile over there." She pointed out in a muffled voice.

From behind them, Ophi took a brief moment to attempt to wave again. Though somewhat wobbly, she held on to the the pillar of pillow substitutes with her left hand as she greeted Phish with her right, then quickly held on with both. As the tower righted itself just in time, she sighed to herself then continued on.

Phish sneered at the bedroll. "Then I hope you like falling."

Mai laughed, reached out, and tapped Phish on the nose again much to his annoyance. "Sure! Maybe I'll call you out for being my partner in crime."

"Why do I always lose in these scenarios?" Phish muttered and shook his head.

While he conversed with the Octoling, he neglected to notice the wall that seemed to come out of nowhere. He bumped into the alloy the wall was constructed of then backed up and groaned.

"What the-?" Phish muttered as he rubbed his forehead.

"...That's a big wall." Portic muttered next to him.

As Phish looked up, he could not help but agree. He did not quite enjoy smashing his head into the metal, but the wall standing tall is impressive. Separated patches of metal, some black, others gray, assembled in a patchwork fashion made up the wall. It was tall enough to obstruct their vision ahead of them, but they could see a few hills in the distance.

Which made Phish wonder, _"How did we not see this?"_

Rinse's eyes narrowed. As if personally offended by the very existence of this obstruction, he started to kick the wall until his whaling created a dent while everything on his back shook from his movements.

"Whoa, whoa!" Portic chided and raised his hands.

He spun around and glared at the rest of them. Immediately, both Portic and Ophi backed away. The glare he gave them was definitely not as friendly as they had hoped. So unfriendly in fact, that Ophi accidentally dropped the stack of sleeping bags, the bedrolls unfurling messily onto the ground.

"Aw." She frowned and crouched down.

As she began the clearly momentous task of placing bedrolls on top of each other in a neat pile, Phish glanced over at the sides of the wall, his tentacles swiveling as he turned. "Yeesh. Are we really supposed to walk around this?"

"Welp," Portic grinned merrily, "Looks like we'd better get started! See you on the other side, guys!"

Before he stepped away, the group could hear a shrill scream. Portic's foot dropped back down on the grass slowly.

"Ophi, dear, I know it would be a crying shame if I left, but someone's gonna have to get around this first." Portic spoke with a smirk.

Ophi rolled her eyes as she lifted the collection of bedrolls up, the ends drooping off of the sides of her arms. "That wasn't me."

He crossed his arms. "Well, I'm pretty sure that Rinse doesn't have such a high voice. Unless…"

Portic slowly pivoted towards Phish, who still held onto his sleeping bag and Inkbrush that leaked on it. The impish sneer that started to grow on his face also started to bother Phish. His tie brushed past in the wind and he raised his bedroll as if to throw it at him. That was when the piece of metal smacked into the back of his head.

"Aaugh!" Phish yelped and immediately dropped the bag to rub his head.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice the fact that the sleeping bag attempted to punch him. Instead they all stared up at the top of the humongous barricade. Rinse grimaced as they noticed the Octotrooper at the top.

She held another shard of metal in her tentacle-like head albeit shakily. Large yellow eyes with green irises shivered and jittered in their sockets as she stared at them all. As Rinse raised his Bamboozler from his side, he gritted his teeth and prepared to shoot. All of a sudden, she squeaked and ran off, but not before she dropped the scrap of metal down next to them. It embedded itself and left a sizable mark. Phish was glad that it was not like that the first time.

"I think she's willing to let us in." Portic suggested hopefully.

The large wall shifted slightly. A set of metallic pieces creaked, sparks flew out as they adjusted themselves. As if they were a set of doors opened to greet a monarch, the metal split apart and revealed three large openings in the wall. The rest of the landscape was no longer obscured through the three of them and it revealed, surprise, more sky and grass. A new addition was added, however.

Several robots.

Gray, metallic objects that closely resembled Octotroopers stumbled out slowly on platforms just like the vehicles the real ones used. Smoke erupted from the top of their tentacles. For a moment, no one moved. Not until the droids settled their mechanical sights on them, at least. Each mechanical Octotrooper oozed violet ink and glared at the group with glowing red eyes. Now, the five conscious members (four considering Mai was squirming back into the recesses of Phish's bedroll) might have regarded them as amazing works of technology. If they were not gazing at them with intent to kill.

"...Nice welcome." Portic commented.

As if the entire armada of robotic soldiers were listening, they all took his comment as a personal offense and began charging towards him, the platforms revealing several turret guns on the front while shuffling forward.

* * *

AN: Apologies for the delay. I haven't been feeling up to writing for whatever reason.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


	11. Sentry

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Sentry**

When the bots were unleashed on them, Portic laughed. They were silly looking in his opinion, wobbling piles of scraps resembling Octotroopers? Ha! The fact that they coughed smoke? Pff! That they were immune to ink?

Probably funny somewhere else to somebody.

The moment the eyes on the machines flashed red, Rinse fired multiple rounds in succession and blasted the metallic soldiers in the face. Unfortunately, all that seemed to do was irritate them to the point where they would return fire. Small hatches on the front of their little platforms revealed several small cannons. Portic managed to make another mistake by thinking that they were cute. The rapid-fire of fuchsia that erupted from the nozzles had changed his mind. Especially considering they were repeated by at least a dozen others. A tidal wave of violet crashed over the plains and the group barely had time to duck before it splattered onto the grass.

They all rolled back, the sting of foreign ink bleeding into their skin. With gritted teeth and gasps for breath, they retreated behind a small knoll. As the group settled down behind the short hill, Rinse laid Sumera down and rested her head gently on the side. She did not complain and continued to snooze.

"Gah!" Phish yelped as a fuchsia ink bullet rocketed by his tentacles.

Rinse scowled and stood up from behind the hill with his Bamboozler level to his shoulders. He aimed towards the several mechanical monstrosities and steadied his trigger finger. He fired once, twice, thrice. Each and every blast of blue that spiraled out of the barrel splattered across the metallic surface of the metal Octotroopers and dripped down harmlessly. It did create a rather lovely purple glow as it passed by the red eyes of the machines, which Portic thought fit well.

Because that was what they were about to see in a few seconds.

At least, that was the most probable choice. Portic watched as Rinse backed down with a crouch and tended towards his weapon with a scowl with fuchsia ink stains that dripped down from his head and Bamboozler. Ophi looked like she was about to have a panic attack while Phish appeared to console his...sleeping bag?

Meanwhile, throughout the chaos, Portic stood with his bamboo "baseball bat" held over his helmet. A brief thought crossed his mind. Carefully, he removed his helmet from his head and exposed the blue tentacles that dangled carelessly from his head and placed his headgear on his bamboo weapon. He slowly raised the decoy above his head and the hill. A second passed, then Ink whistled as it whizzed by and knocked the helmet off of its perch.

It was Portic's turn to whistle. "Nice shot."

He stooped down to pick up his helmet and plant it back on his cranium while the enemy ink dripped back down the top of it. Rinse grunted and reached for his head. He cringed somewhat and reeled back, but it turned out that he just wanted to clean off the top of the helmet. Rinse wiped off the violet toxins and went straight back to his targets.

"Got any plans, gang?" Portic asked as more bullets of ink whizzed past his head.

Ophi squeaked as one came dangerously close to her helmet. While several puddles of violet collected on the ground, she yelled, "Er, don't die!"

Adjacent to her, Phish looked somewhat sick. He glared at Ophi and placed his sleeping bag at the side. "That's it? Oh. Sounds easy."

As the storm of death rained on overhead, Portic just shrugged. "I mean, none of these have come close to hitting us. They don't seem very efficient."

"I don't think they need to." Ophi commented as she glanced up.

Soon after she spoke up, a glob of ink sailed by. It splattered onto Rinse's arm. He hissed and stepped down behind cover and brushed the ink off of his sleeve.

splashed onto the grass. It sizzled as if it were a puddle of acid. Rinse appeared agitated beyond belief; he stowed away his Bamboozler and tended to Sumera as she laid on the ground.

All of a sudden, Phish perked up and shouted, "I've got it!"

Everyone spun towards him. He stood about as tall as he could without his head stuck in the line of fire. His bedroll sat upright with a single Inkbrush that stuck out of it. "I- Uh, I figured it out. We have to get around them."

"How?" Ophi asked frantically while violet ink sprayed over the top of the knoll. "You'll be splatted as soon as you leave the hill."

He scowled and ducked again. Phish wiped away ink from his tie. "I never said I knew how we'd get around them. Just that we need to!"

Ophi adjusted her wooden animal necklace in frustration. "Why?"

"Uh- How else are we going to make it to the other side?!" Phish shouted in indignation.

The both of them glared at each other while liquid bullets flew overhead. The rattle and clanks of machinery grew louder and closer as time went on. Portic bit his lip, glanced around, and sat still.

"...Ah, whatever." He shrugged and ran towards the other two.

Portic reached at Phish's sleeping bag, much to the others' surprise. He reached out and gripped the Inkbrush on top and raised it towards the sky. "Ha!"

The thin brush dangled in the sky. It was a simple stick with a thin streak of bristles that stood upright that held a few blue splotches left on the top. Hardly anything impressive especially in comparison to the barrage of enemy fire that flew past. A few of the purple ink that flew past was split into two as it volleyed into the bristles.

The lean Inkling set the top of the Inkbrush on the ground and bent his legs. He glanced behind at Phish and grinned. "So, just make it to the other side?"

Their female companion blinked in surprise. "You're really going through with this?"

"That's perfect!" Phish stated excitably, then frowned soon after, "Oh, wait, we'll still be peppered as soon as we leave."

They heard the sound of someone's throat being cleared. Behind them, Rinse cocked his Bamboozler readily. He nudged Ophi with his elbow and the small female Inkling immediately held up her own ink weapon. She looked sort of nervous, though she held her weapon with a shaky nod. Already, the hill they took shelter behind started to overflow with purple. Violet ink crawled up slowly from the top like an ominous flood.

"...Count of three, we run. As fast as we can. Got it?" Phish ordered and adjusted his tie.

Portic hummed. "I'd agree, as long as we get the commander seal of approval."

All three males turned to Ophi. She gazed at them and shivered at first. Then her solemn stare switched into an irritated glare. "Yeah, go! You don't need my-"

"You heard her, let's go!" Portic shouted and took off.

"Wait, we were supposed to count-" Phish started, then groaned in exasperation. "Oh, forget it!"

The lean Inkling dashed off and dragged his Inkbrush across the grass. Quickly, Phish turned into a blue squid and dropped himself into the thin blue line he drew across the battlefield. As the two sped off, Rinse grunted at Ophi. She nodded back. Both of them stood up and took aim. Rinse fired at the bots with startling precision; Ophi shot at the droids as well, though she shot reluctantly. As her companion blasted several of them in the face and the eyes, she blasted the ground in front of them.

While they trudged forward towards the others, Portic and Phish ran around the outside of the Octarian machines' perimeter. While the majority steamed and rustled themselves towards the hill the three other Inklings (and very well concealed octopus) shot from, a few of the machines managed to notice the two as they ran around. Already a barrage of ink spouted forth from the troops in the back as they faced forward.

Portic ducked under one shot and swerved around the next. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he danced around the fire as if they were lawn sprinklers. Behind him, Phish was not having quite as much fun. Phish was swimming frantically through the fire, the violet ink cutting across the trail of blue that his squadmate laid behind. Luckily for them, they hardly budged from their formation to chase after them. They seemed much more hardpressed in their attempts to murder the two that shot at them from behind cover.

"There's the wall." Portic pointed out.

"We're not going just yet." His companion bit his lip and moved forward.

Across from them, the large sheet metal barricade stood and separated the rest of them. As they slowed down to a brisk jog, they turned and stared at the enemy armada. There were several, sizable trails that led from the wall. They drenched the grass and seemed to have left a lasting impression on the grass. The scars followed up small slopes the robotic Octotroopers (Robot-ctotroopers Portic decided he wanted to call them) took while gunfire sounded off in the background.

Portic whistled in astonishment. Had Rinse accompanied him, he was sure that he would be determined enough to tear down the wall with his bare hands.

But he was not with them. The others were still trying not to die from the onslaught of Octarian slaughter machines. Portic pivoted towards the other Inkling. "Alright, we're here. Now what?"

"We have to get closer to those bots." Phish spoke as he gripped his Octoshot and glared over the hills.

Portic coughed. "What?! We just got around them!"

The other Inkling sighed. "You'd rather charge at them from the front? We'd have to deactivate them from the back, break their wiring."

"Ah. How do you know this?" Portic asked with a smirk. Phish eyed him uncomfortably as he nudged the tie-wearing Inkling with his elbow. "You wouldn't happen to be a double-agent or something, would you?"

Phish's face went pale as a- Fish? At least Portic knew where he got his name from. "...No."

Much to his surprise, Portic just groaned. "Aw. I hoped that maybe you knew more than you let on, like you have all of these strategies or something."

"In all fairness," Phish began, "I did not expect that we would survive that. I mean, running across while a dozen of machines fire at us was just a stroke of luck."

"Or skill." Portic grinned, "We're gonna have to thank Rinse and Ophi when we get back."

Phish nodded in response. Then immediately, both tensed up and shot a glare over the hills. They had forgotten for a minute. The Inklings swerved around; Portic deployed his brush and Phish switched into squid form and they sprinted as fast as they could over the hills. Unbeknownst to them, a shadow peaked out from the top of the wall. The Octarian from earlier squinted as she retreated back, away from sight.

* * *

On the other end-

"Eek! Rinse, your eye!"

A glob of ink had wedged itself into Rinse's right eye. He snarled and fired back a few shots of vengeance, then dropped down. He reached at his eye, but the enemy ink steamed and stung before he could even attempt to clean it. Rinse laid back on the grass slope and gritted his teeth while Ophi stared at him in shock.

"Oh my Cod, oh my Cod!" She gasped and fanned at her face.

Rinse blinked with his good eye. As he watched her hyperventilate and continue to fan her face; despite the pain in his right eye and the ominous gear noises that sounded overhead, he could not help but smirk at her. Ophi noticed the smile from the corner of her eye and stood and stared flabbergasted.

She took to fanning Rinse's face instead. Some of the ink drifted off from his eye, but it was still damaged. Then, Ophi's ears twitched. She thought she heard something. The creaks of machinery were one thing, but the sound she was hearing...was that chuckling?

Rinse was chuckling. His iris was currently melting, but he was still laughing. The thought started to make Ophi tear up. All of a sudden, the rollercoaster of emotions shifted. Rinse's snorts stopped short once he noticed the rather worried stare he was given and the wetness in her eyes.

He sighed and glanced at the ground. "...Mind setting up a puddle?"

She perked up and wiped her eyes. "Uh, right!"

Ophi gripped her Bamboozler and aimed at the grass in front of Rinse's lap. She pulled at the wooden trigger below slowly. She sweated, any moment they would be overrun by a metal force. Regardless of the fact that the storm above was at its breaking point, Ophi began to spill blue ink from the nozzle of her Bamboozler. It stained the grass blue below.

With a grin, Rinse surprised Ophi. He patted her on the shoulder and said, "Thanks."

He promptly dunked his face. She watched in a horrid fascination as the ink bubbled as Rinse breathed. As he practically drowned himself, she braced herself as a shadow loomed over the hill. She saw the patchwork metal face of one of the enemy robots and bit her lip. It glared down at her and made its way over the knoll.

With a shaky hand, she aimed at the metallic face of the Octotrooper droid. A thin stream fired out and splashed across the enemy's face, but that hardly deterred the bot. It continued to ascend the hill, along with its brethren. They stared at Ophi with an ominous air as they crawled their way up; clanks, clunks, and whirs filled the air as they did. She backed away. Rinse retrieved his face from the puddle in the ground and blinked. His sight cleared back in his eyes and immediately adjusted to the first sight. The metal soldiers in front of him.

Rinse's eyes widened in shock. Before he could attempt to aim, the enemy troops revealed their weapons built in the front of their mobile platforms. The two Inklings bunched up next to each other and gawked as their robotic adversaries took aim.

Then, something snapped. The sound of sparks flying and crackling happened to begin permeating the air around them. The smoke and smog around the troops increased. Oil and fire, along with other mechanical stenches flooded their nostrils.

Had Rinse's eye not been shot and the pain not prevalent in his face, they would have become saucers. "Get down!"

Ophi wanted to ask why. Then she saw it. Over the hill, past the line of infantry, a pair of squids charged in.

One was on top of a robot.

* * *

The plan was simple. Get to the robots from behind, smack them a bunch with his brush, and take them out.

Funny enough, Portic found that it was significantly easier, not to mention much more fun.

He had ran across the fields of grass and panted occasionally during the brisk jog. Following behind him was Phish who continued swimming through the miniature river behind Portic. The trip felt much shorter as they approached the metal monsters, probably because they were not getting blasted up the bum by the enemy squadron.

When they saw the enemy from behind, the Inklings stopped and stared just a few meters away.

"...Wow." Portic whistled.

Several cords ran among the ground. On the back of the machines, panels were opened up and circuits exposed. Electrical sockets were slapped on the back of the machines and the wires ran in a constricted bunch among the several Octotroopers. A few of the Octotroopers dragged their lines out quite far, but despite their shuffles and attempts to move elsewhere remained tethered in a circle around the group.

"Ooh." Portic hummed as he stared. "Where do we start?"

Phish muttered something to himself. His companion spun towards him with a curious look plastered on his face. Phish jolted up and coughed. "Right, uh...anywhere. I think we can break them easily from the back."

"Will do!" He smiled and picked up the pace.

He slung his Inkbrush over his back and walked forward stealthily; he hardly cared that a stream of blue ink dripped down his back. Sneaking over towards one positioned at the very back while the battle continued raging on, he scratched his chin as he stared at the back of one of the machines.

Layers upon layers of circuitry and wires ran about the inside. He frowned and attempted to make heads or tails of the bizarre machinery. Not to mention he had to walk forward a step each time the Octotrooper decided to move, which was constantly.

After a few frustrating seconds, Portic huffed and raised his brush. "Oh, I get it!"

He speared the back of the machine with his Inkbrush. Much to Portic's surprise, the thin spear-like tip of the brush pierced the circuit board easily. The machine began to churn uneasily with the weapon now lodged in its back.

A satisfied smile crossed Portic's face. He turned around, "Hey, I think I-"

He felt a tug on his arm. Portic frowned in response. Phish stared back at him with an impatient curiosity. The Octotrooper smoked.

To put it accurately, the robot burst into flames.

From behind them, the Octotrooper's back exploded in a fiery blast. Portic yelped and attempted to retrieve his weapon. Phish jolted back in surprise, but once the shock wore off he cursed under his breath and unholstered the Octoshot by his side. When he aimed the gun at the back of the machine, as if it had eyes on the back of its metal head, it began to dash towards the other troops in an uncontrollable rampage. It happened to drag Portic along with it, much to his surprise.

"Oh geez!" Portic yelped as he hung on for dear life.

Phish watched as the machine began to drag him towards the fray while the grass clung to him and stained the poor Inkling's shirt. "Portic, let go!"

With a grunt as a rock passed him by and smacked into his ankle, Portic yelled out, "Not yet! I still haven't sated my quota yet!"

Phish scowled and yelled, "What quota?!" But before he could say, Portic was dragged off towards the group of metal warriors. "...Oh, great." Phish muttered then quickly followed after him.

* * *

Through the chaos of being dragged through the ground, Portic could make out slight images as they passed by. First and foremost, the grass. There was a lot of grass. He spat out a few blades as they brushed past his mouth while he was dragged through the ground. Secondly, the robots. At the moment, most of them seemed to have noticed something had gone awry.

Cords rushed past in a blur. A few of the lines attached to the bots were severed by Portic's bot's rush to extinguish itself. The owners of the cords eyes would dull out and shut off, and the robots would fall on their side with a puff of smoke and a sizzle sound. As the rampage went on, metal clangs and miniature explosions sounded off as Portic was carried along as a ragdoll. Eventually, both he and the bot reached a familiar hill; they still traversed the landscape at a speed devastating enough to the grass and the hunks of metal on platforms.

Portic gulped as he saw the bump in the road ahead through the several plumes of grass that brushed past his face. He covered his head with his helmet and his spare hand. Just then, the bot slammed into the slope and rebounded up into the air. A trail of displaced dirt and grass followed them straight up towards the knoll and stopped with a miniature crater as they were flung into the air.

The last thing Portic saw while he flew up into the sky were two Inklings underneath him.

* * *

Ophi backed away in surprise as Portic slammed headfirst into the ground below. As he jittered from the crash landing, something else joined him. Right before it did however, Rinse swiftly gripped Sumera by her legs. She sighed in her sleep before she was pulled out of the way as a fiery meteorite slammed into the earth next to her.

"Nngh!" Ophi coughed as smoke billowed out from the new crater.

Almost as soon as it had erupted from the crater, the smoke dissipated into thin air. Within the hole in the ground, the Octotrooper-bot laid dormant and very much broken. Its eyes were shattered and the top of its tentacle hung from its head like it was on a loose hinge. Ophi felt like she should ask, but after she took a glance at Portic, who laid on the ground with dazed eyes and a delirious laugh, she decided against it.

He did mutter something along the lines of, "Aaaand that's one for the quota!"

She had to refrain from smirking at him. Which was easy, because Rinse made it harder to smirk. He glared down at his friend, gripped him by his face, and shoved him into the blue puddle of ink below. Portic struggled and slapped the grass with the palm of his hand; he did it softly and patted the ground as if he wanted out.

While Ophi watched with a new horrid fascination, Rinse just glanced at her and explained, "Healing."

She just nodded solemnly. "...Right."

Just then, a screech sound pierced the air. Alert, Ophi jolted up in surprise while Rinse let up on his grip. As Portic gasped in air outside of the blue puddle with ink that dripped down from his helmet and tentacles, the other two hopped up with their weapons at the ready.

Instead of several guns pointed back at them, a pessimistic Inkling shot at them, "What a mess. I hope you were satisfied with your quota."

"Phish!" Ophi exclaimed a little more joyful than she had hoped.

Phish sighed and dusted off his tie and shirt. He stood in the midst of a warzone, or at least the aftermath of one. Several wrecked Octotrooper machines laid on the grass and sparked and smoked. A few spewed violet ink from the cracks in their skin. Ophi could not help but stare as Phish walked up the hill and slid down to their side.

"So, how's it going over here?" He asked curiously.

Rinse shrugged. At his side, the downed commander continued to sleep significantly more comfortably, what with Rinse's lap as her new pillow. Her long blue tentacles drooped off of the side. He remained silent and stoic despite his predicament. However, his gaze began shifting over towards Ophi. Phish followed his stare; the two stared at Ophi somewhat eagerly.

"...Uh, what?" She gulped and tugged at the collar of her white shirt underneath her brown vest.

Rinse cleared his throat. "Commander, our status?"

"Rinse!" She exclaimed with a blush while he just shrugged. "Er, we're fine. Good work Phish." She turned around and nodded towards the huffing Inkling by the puddle of blue. "You too Portic."

Much to her surprise not to mention embarrassment, Rinse laughed again. Phish just shrugged. "You're alive. That's fine."

Behind them, Portic finished hyperventilating and laughed alongside Rinse "Didya see that? We totalled them!"

Rinse nodded in response. Portic noticed the nod and shuffled uncomfortably in the grass next to him. Despite his discomfort, Rinse simply gripped Portic by the shoulders and pulled him close. The other Inkling eyed him nervously. Eventually he threw his caution to the wind and chuckled by him; the larger Inkling cracked a small smile.

Ophi sighed and stood up. "I guess that means we should get going."

"I guess so." Phish muttered as he fastened his tie.

With a wave of her hand, Ophi bent down towards the grass. She picked up the sleeping bags strewn about, a few of the bedrolls soaked in violet ink from the violent encounter. She shot a glance towards Phish's, then back to him. A moment of indecision crossed his face.

"Er, you don't need to bother with that, thanks." Phish said and walked over towards his own sleeping bag.

As he bowed to pick up the bedroll, Ophi smiled behind him with her stack of sleeping bags now reorganized in her hands. "Was that a 'thanks'? I...think I'm breaking new ground with you."

"Shut up." Phish murmured under his breath as he looked away.

Ophi huffed in response. "Maybe not."

An awkward silence emerged. Phish hefted his sleeping bag towards his face and looked in. He muttered to the inside as if he was having a serious conversation with his bedroll. Rinse hefted the rest of the supplies as well as Sumera over his shoulder and walked over the hill with no problems whatsoever, his Bamboozler gun firmly gripped in his right hand as if enemies remained just around the corner. Portic seemed to find a newfound glee in his Inkbrush and spun the thin stick around as though it were a baton. Ophi grunted and carried the sleeping bag tower in the middle of the group.

Together, the cephalopod teenagers walked across the remnants of the battle. After a while, ink ceased oozing from any cracked orifice and sparks stopped flying. While they walked, Rinse eyed the remains with distaste. He even went as far as to kick away at a few of the dislodged parts. No one protested.

Soon, they reached the wall erected in their path. The set of sheet metal doors were wide open. Though the expanse on the other side of it looked inviting, they began to stand still in front of the doors hesitantly.

As if their suspicions were confirmed, a few panels on the front opened. With a screech of metal, two rusted cannons emerged from the front above the doors and aimed at the group, though the guns pivoted shakily. Bits of metal and rust dropped from the panels and mounted weapons. Despite the wear and tear, their Splatoon held steady.

The group took a simultaneous fighting stance and reached for their weapons, but held steady. A loud, "Stop!" was heard. They glanced at the top of the wall.

Standing on top, an Octarian troop, a Octotrooper shivered as she stared down at them. She cried out, "Leave! Please. Just go."

Ophi opened her mouth to speak. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that Rinse's triggerfinger quivered. She cleared her throat. "W-Why should we? You attacked first!"

"I was following orders," The Octotrooper called back at the edge of the wall, "Please, turn back! You're not safe here! Go back to Inkopolis!"

Portic scowled. "That seems highly suspicious."

Ophi felt like she should agree. She glanced at her other squadmates. Aside from the rest, Phish glared at the Octotrooper, though there was a stare in his eyes. That of reluctance. He caught Ophi's stare and glanced back quickly. Except instead of any snide remarks or impatient threats, he just stared back at her. Through a small opening in his lips, she could see his sharp Inkling teeth grit.

Ophi turned back towards the Octotrooper. "We beat your robots. We...we don't need to go any further."

The Octotrooper stared back. She bit her lip and glanced to and fro. "...I…I can't. Octavio...his army won't let us. Neither will the Seven."

"...'Seven'?" Ophi muttered among the group.

"...No, no!" The Octotrooper panted, "They'll splat me! I know it! I can't let you through!"

Before Ophi could attempt to say anything else, the Octotrooper began to run. Small stubby feet carried her extraordinarily fast. However, fast feet could not outmaneuver Rinse. With a marksman's aim, he pointed his Bamboozler at the Octotrooper and fired. She screamed as the ink blasted across her feet and tripped her.

As she slammed into the metal floor of the wall, he aimed again.

"No!" She screamed and flailed about.

"Rinse, no!"

His pupils shrank. Fury grew in his eyes as he turned, his Bamboozler still prepped to shoot. Ophi stood in front of him and panted, her eyes wide as saucers. The other Inklings stood at the side and stared with a similar expression. Rinse gritted his teeth and aimed back up at the wall. The Octotrooper was gone. The guns on the wall remained stagnant and continued to rust.

Rinse continued gritted his teeth and whirled around at Ophi. Portic seemed to shrivel somewhat and Ophi looked as though she were about to faint. His finger hovered above the trigger still.

Phish walked in front of Ophi, much to her surprise. He glared back at Rinse and though his own glare seemed to pale in comparison to the much stockier Inkling, he held his arms out in front of her as if he were a shield. "Calm down."

The words sat in the air for a while. Ophi noticed sweat as it dripped down from the back of Phish's neck. Portic's mouth gaped open in shock. The two male Inklings had somewhat of a standoff, though any moment Phish realized he could die.

Wind brushed past and their tentacles rustled along with it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torture, Rinse holstered his Bamboozler. "...Sorry."

He walked ahead through the open doors. In the palm of his open right hand, he raised a compass and stared down at it as he walked forward while the needle pointed to the large "W". Portic blinked as if he had just waken up. After a moment, he smiled and waved at the other Inklings as his friend carried Sumera through. "Welp, see you on the other side!"

With that, he left the other two in the dust on the other side of the barricade. For a moment, Phish stood still his his shield position. He promptly crumpled to the floor and heaved out a lengthy sigh. "Oh geez."

To top it off, he received something else he did not expect. Ophi crouched down and hugged him from the back. "Thank you."

She then stood up. He did as well, and the two stared at each other. Phish rubbed the back of his neck. "You're welcome. I'm never doing that again."

"...Does this mean I owe you now?" Ophi asked shyly.

Phish bit his lip. "Well, I saved your life once. Then you saved ours. I just did it again."

Ophi blinked in confusion. She pursed her lips and said, "Then…"

"...Do me one favor." Phish spoke up and glanced at her with a serious glare. "...Try not to die. I don't like having to call in favors like an errand boy."

"Sure. Wasn't planning on it." Ophi just smiled.

She walked through the door of the wall. Still in a standstill, Phish sighed and stared at the ground below.

"As long as you get everyone else to stop calling me 'commander'!" Ophi called out from in front of him.

He sighed and fastened his tie. "...Fine."

Phish followed the group as they began to trek forward towards the west. As he left the wall behind, a face stared back at the group as they walked off. An Octotrooper, a solemn, melancholy look on her face, sat down on the floor. She wept.

"...They're gone for good." She sniffled. "Octavio will get them. Someone will.. It doesn't matter..."

Small trickles of tears flowed down her face as the Splatoon walked hill over hill into the west.

* * *

AN: A bit of a delay in productivity, recently.

Thank you Recurring Guest, also known as Sir Recurring Guest of the Squid's Blue Table, I appreciate you took the time out of your life to post a simple review. Makes me glad to continue.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


	12. Welcome to the Wild Wild West

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Welcome to the Wild, Wild West**

Ophi rubbed the side of her arm slowly and uncomfortably. If there was ever a situation where she would be instructed to attribute the most fitting personality trait to herself, it would be awkward. Either that or just unnerved. Probably the most bizarre trait of the war thus far was not the threat of psychos, out of place walls, or Octoweapons. It was the ever ungraceful air that seemed to follow the squad.

A gloom shaded Ophi Coddlin's face as she groaned with but one, "Ugh."

As she shuffled forward through the cool air of afternoon, the large, thick steel obstacle faded into the distance behind them, she crossed her arms and stared down at the ground. She did not feel satisfied with herself. Sure, she managed to slow down the incoming rush of Octarian death machines and technically successfully prevented Rinse's eye from melting off his face and sinking off into the grass, but she still felt off, to put it simply.

Having Phish step in front of her and shield her from the blame was also...unsettling. She should be grateful for the gesture but something about it persisted to perturb her.

She glanced over at the male Inkling whose tie dangled in the breeze as he walked. In the distance, away from the rest of the group, he walked along and mumbled into his sleeping bag. Oph looked away in a flustered manner.

She liked him. In a weird friendly way. He was rude and hardly liked getting close to any of them. Yet he was not so bad. If not only due to the fact that he had saved her once.

...Rinse did not count, because there was no way he would actually hurt her, right?

Nevertheless it was mortifying thinking back on his act of selflessness. It felt bizarre and somewhat embarrassing to have been saved by a fellow squadmate like that. Ophi bit her lip and continued to walk forward behind Portic and Rinse.

Across from her, while Ophi pondered to herself about self-doubts, Phish talked to his sleeping bag. He bent his neck over in an odd angle as if he tried to conceal his conversation. To Ophi however it seemed as though he was extremely tired.

Regardless of what others though he spoke into the bag. "-and they all just toppled over as he barrelled through them. It was that easy."

"See?" A muffled voice emanated from the bag with a small rustle.

Up popped up an Octoling's head which yawned as refreshing zephyr swirled by. The exhale caused Phish to glance to the side with a brusque snit almost as if he did not want to catch whatever was in Mai's breath.

Mai giggled and leaned on the bag with one arm. "Told you it would be easy. If it wasn't for my brilliant plan you guys would have been stains on the grass."

"Yeah thanks." Phish muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Had it not been for your 'infallible' plan of running around the enemies. We just got lucky," Phish mumbled and shook his head, "All Portic had to do was stab one of them."

In the bag Mai snorted merrily. "Really?"

"You heard me." Phish took one cursory glance downwards into Mai's domain.

"That's rich." She shook her head with another laugh up at the sky. "And after all that talk? Nice craftsmanship Query."

Phish ears twitched. He froze in place as the group continued on and stared down into his bedroll. "What?"

The Octoling paused as her head poked out. "Hmm?"

"That name," Phish winded towards her with a glare and narrowed his eyes skeptically, "What was that you said."

"Nothing." Mai shrugged and retreated into the recesses of the sleeping bag.

"No, what was that you said?! Something about Query?" Phish asked and stuck his head into the bedroll curiously.

"Mmm...going to sleep. I'll talk to you about it in the morning." She excused herself and shrunk back into the bag and covered her with the folds of the bag. She even pointed an ink weapon at Phish as his face ventured in.

At the sight of a Bamboozler aimed at his face, he scowled and retreated back into the daylight. "Fine. Whatever."

When he retracted his face from the sleeping bag, Mai popped back out and grinned back at him. "Thank you for being so patient. We here at Octoling Incorporated-"

"Rrgh." Phish groaned as he walked along.

Meanwhile, Portic and Rinse walked forward side by side the farthest from the others; they moved with haste as they left their teammates behind. Portic fidgeted with his new Inkbrush as he walked and sneaked a careful glance at Rinse ever so often. As they walked on the terra firma, Rinse stared down at Sumera's compass in his right hand as he slugged their commander over his left.

She breathed much more peacefully now as if she had not just returned from a massacre. Her previous wounds seemed to have vanished. A few dried drops of blue ink and small scars remained on her skin. Other than that, she was smooth and appeared rather calm despite slung over Rinse's shoulder. Sumera hugged his shoulder tight and pushed her face in by his neck as her mobile bed walked westwards.

Portic chugged along at a safe enough distance: two feet away. He glanced over at Rinse and coughed. "So...still slugging her around, huh?"

"Mm." Rinse murmured back with a solemn nod as he walked.

"Ah." Portic responded and cleared his throat, "How's she doing?"

"She's alive." The stockier Inkling called back.

A gust of wind blew past. Despite the weather conditions, all Portic could feel was the chill of social anxiety. At least that was what he assumed the sick feeling in his gut was, it really could have been anything. Maybe the rations were not as safe as he initially thought.

Although his stomach began to make odd churn sounds he just sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "...Good, good. That's coolio, you know."

"...What's wrong?" Rinse questioned with an arched eyebrow.

The lean Inkling hopped up in surprise. "Uh, nothing buddy! Just uh...making sure." He flubbed and turned away yet again with a dainty whistle.

No matter how jolly the tune Portic blew through his lips, Rinse's stare did not leave him.

"...Would you believe a bad dream?" Coughed Portic beneath his breath.

"...What about?" Rinse answered back much to the other Inkling's surprise.

Portic hopped up in surprise. "Uh…" He bit his lip but continued his stride, albeit slower. "...Well, it started off when I was flying in the sky. Like a seagull."

He slung his Inkbrush over his shoulders. Raising his hands to his mouth he started making to caw and flap his elbows like wings. Rinse gawked at him with an expression devoid of any emotion besides an eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"I was flying," Portic reiterated with a flap, "Then suddenly, whoosh! I dive bomb straight into the ground below and die!"

"..." Came Rinse's response along with a skeptical blink.

Portic smile and gazed up at Rinse innocently regardless of his semi-suicidal statement. Much to Portic's befuddlement, his bizarre stare did the opposite of what he intended it to do and made the larger Inkling rub his arm in a strained manner. Rinse had on quite the poker face, but on the inside he grew more and more uncomfortable as Portic's stare continued to pierce straight through him almost as effectively as the Inkbrush he had.

"...I don't understand." Rinse spoke with a confused frown. "We can't get hurt by falling."

"...Well, yeah." Portic admitted with a scratch of his head. "But it's uh...It's the idea that's alarming, you know? Imagine me! Splattered across the ground!"

"I wouldn't let that happen." Rinse stated simply with a scowl.

"...Ah." Portic murmured and gazed at him stiffly.

Rinse smirked back at him. "You trust me?"

He furrowed his brow and stared up at him. Here he was standing in front of the guy who killed him. Portic felt a bead of sweat drip down his face as he glanced at his arms and expected a Bamboozler aimed with a toxic coating of ink to tear his limbs off with a single shot. Then he glanced at Rinse's face. He was hardly taller than him, the two of them were taller than both Phish and Ophi. Maybe even Sumera, but her state of unconsciousness made it difficult to see if she was in fact tall or not.

But regardless of physical or hypothetical height, it seemed like Rinse did not have the itch to scrap with him. Portic shuffled through the short plumes of grass and sighed contently. "...Yes."

"Then-" Rinse paused and checked over his shoulder. Sumera still laid over his shoulder and his Bamboozler still attached to his back. "Then let's go."

"Roger wilco." Portic managed to grin.

The two male Inklings advanced through the grassland slowly but surely. The sun above them sleepily glowed down and lightly baked the green hills and squids with comfortable rays of light.

Eventually, Phish and Ophi caught up with the two. As Phish attempted to fidget with his tie for no reason other than to appear semi-dignified Ophi behind him gasped for air with her spire of sleep sacks.

"...Alright!" She wheezed as she carried the cushy comforters. "Any sign of the front yet?"

Rinse narrowed his eyes and glared down at his compass. He traced the arrow as it pointed to a large red "W" and glanced westwards.

He turned around and shrugged. "No."

"Gah." Ophi collapsed on the grass, face first into the sleeping bags.

"I agree. Gah." Phish muttered and toppled onto the grass. He narrowly avoided making the mistake of laying his head down on his own knapsack. "Let me guess, keep heading west huh?"

"In a nutshell!" Portic explained as he stared down in amusement at the other two.

"...But where exactly?" Phish rose to his feet with a scowl. "We've been walking aimlessly, except for 'west'. How do we know it isn't for another hundred miles? How do we even know that-"

"Hey, look over there!" Portic pointed westwards.

Eagerly, Phish snapped towards Portic's finger. "Huh?!"

"More hills to climb over!" Portic snickered as he circled his finger towards the green lumps in the ground.

Phish just blinked. He glared straight up at Portic, stood up, and continued to glare at him. Portic shut up in an instant and gave a few cursory glances around the barren area of grass and dirt.

"...Hey, I think I hear something up ahead!" He suggested with a grin. "I think I'll uh… I'll go check!"

With a hop, a skip, and a very tense feel in the air Portic dashed over the hill with his Inkbrush still gripped behind his back, leaving both Phish and Ophi with their juggernaut squadmate who sat solemnly besides them. Rinse blinked in the direction where Portic had took off in and simply started to inspect his own weapon with another hard headed look down the bamboo barrel.

He lowered one shoulder slowly. Their previous commander slumped off of his shoulder and toppled onto the side of the hill. Her breathing continued to flow in a free, calm pattern. Sumera's chest rose and fell along the pattern.

"Wasn't today fantastic," Phish muttered and stared up at the clouds above them all, "Only thing we're missing now is another psycho."

"Phish…" Ophi frowned at him.

"What?" He asked with a frown of his own. Phish spun towards her. "Ophi, I'm tired. That's all."

The female Inkling let her shoulders droop. "Phish, all of us are. It's been a long day."

His tie wiggled in the wind as Phish turned backwards. The sheet metal barricade could still be spied in the distance and had appeared to have shrunk progressively. Though it was nothing more but a dark line now, not a single grain of accomplishment crossed his mind.

"We walked past robots and a wall." Rinse spoke plainly.

Phish wondered if he echoed thoughts. "Exactly."

"...So we should take it easy." He added while he jammed a thumb down the barrel of the bamboo stick. As he yanked back his thumb, a glob of blue ink stuck to the finger.

"...Well...not exactly…" Phish sputtered defensively. "...You know what, as long as we stay away from potential deathtraps, we'll be fine."

"Hey guys, check this out!" The squad jolted up at the vibrant call of Portic's voice.

Ophi snapped towards Phish with a less than interested expression. His face shared her sentiments. The two Inklings plucked their sleeping bags off of the crisp coat of green ground and took off. Indifferently remaining in place Rinse hardly batted an eye.

Over hill and knoll they ran. Though the wind caressed them from tentacle to leg as gentle as wind could physically caress, the felt somewhat ridiculous as they dashed over yonder. If anything the small beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads only sped up as the wind picked up.

After they bolted over five hills, they paused on top of the sixth afterwards and stood atop the miniature paramount of the sixth one, and the pair proceeded to pant tiredly in the afternoon sun. Ophi had taken it upon herself to utilize her tentacles and wrapped them around the sleeping bag pillar.

She glanced over at Phish. The other Inkling gawked at her and her bizarre tentacle, sleeping bag tower. Ophi could not refrain from a smirk. "...Jealous?"

"...Yes. I am jealous of the girl who could wrap her tentacles around a bunch of sleeping bags." Phish puffed in her direction.

Her tentacles constrained the bags tighter. "A simple 'no' would've worked."

"There you are!" At the tone the twosome of Inklings glanced across the hills. Portic stood at the foundation of their hill and waved up at them. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"...What?" Phish gasped for breath.

"Yeesh." Retorted Portic as he stumbled back from their profiles. "You guys are already worn out?"

His female companion puffed as she gripped the pillar of bedrolls. "I'm getting used to it."

"...You two need some exercise." Portic snickered as he leaned on his Inkbrush which dug into the grass. "But seriously, look!"

Phish and Ophi momentarily ceased their pathetic act of pants and stared ahead of them. They gasped, because cut in a wavy line through the hills was a creek, a river that rushed past the fields of grass like a outlandish blue scar. Grass paused at the edge of the river and gave way to soaked dirt. They watched the rapids swerve past the hills gently.

Despite their gentle nature the Inklings did not react as calmly. Phish gritted his teeth. "Oh great. Water."

"It's...pretty." Ophi commented at his side as she stared uneasily at the flow of water as it splashed across the miniature bank.

Portic shook his head with a sigh. "You guys need to learn to buck up. It's just water."

"...It's just water." Phish repeated as he stared down at the rapids. Even from a distance, as a small volume splashed up the bank, he cringed as it wetted the nearby grass. "It's just liquid death. It's just acid. It's just-"

"It's just water!" Came an irritated Portic response as well a huff from the lanky Inkling. "Seriously, we can jump over it. Watch."

Before the others could protest, Portic ambled off as they watched with reluctance clear on their face and mirrored in their tentacles what with several shakes. Individually the Inklings glanced at him worriedly as he took off for the river. As he approached the embankment he turned around, smiled, and waved his hand over the water.

"See?" He spoke positively with the daintiest smile plastered to his face. "Nothing to it!"

The smirk only lasted for about five seconds when the feeling of cold liquid doused his hand. Though, with a more professional glance, it took him about two seconds to feel and the other three to react.

"Gyaaah!" Screamed Portic as he stumbled back onto the flat, dry bank of the river.

He nursed his hand in his lap as the river continued to flow by without a hint of guilt, as estuaries care not for Inkling safety. His two Inkling colleagues tread forwards almost equally as shocked.

Their concern melted into perplexity when Portic pointed the very same hand spanked by the rush of the river and yelled, "Fish!"

Stupefied, Phish shook his head promptly and shouted, "What?"

Portic whirled about with a wooden expression. "No, not you."

"...What?" He inquired as he slid down the hill. The grass parted as his Slip-Ons were besmirched with green, much to his misfortune.

Throughout his descent his body switched into the form of a small blue squid and bounced and bounded off through the short pastures. The taller Inkling leaned down by the water and stared down into the drink.

Phish popped up besides him, reverted back into his Inkling form, and glared at Portic. "Portic, what is it?"

Portic signaled towards the tributary with a broad smirk. "Check it out!"

Phish eyed the river peculiarly as it splashed along the rim of the line. Ripples and curls of crystal clear blue tore past the grass with a simultaneous harmony and chaos. Within the ripples, Phish could make out an outline, an outline splashing and bathing within the drink.

"...Pff!" A snicker reverberated past the duo's ears.

Portic spun to his left. Sitting upon her knees, her tower of sleeping bags piled beside her, her face disclosed her impending expulsion of a laugh as she noticed the aquatic animals swivel through the water.

"So when you meant fish-" She grinned widely as her necklace bobbed up as if it shared her sentiments. "You literally meant it."

Portic shrugged in amusement. "Of course. What else would I mean?"

"Alright, I get it, my name sounds like fish." He growled irritably. "Very funny. Is that all you wanted to show us?"

"Yes!" Portic nodded gleefully as he sat by the riverbed.

"Wonderful. Nature." Phish shook his head and glanced around. "Are we going to jump across or-"

"Wait, whoa, hold on!" Portic waved his hands up at him. "We're not skipping out on lunch are we?"

Phish shook his head and eyed the stream from left to right impatiently. "Of course not. We'll eat the rations-"

"Rations?" Portic asked with an eyebrow cocked. "Who said anything rations?"

Phish and Ophi glanced at him suspiciously. "Huh?"

He pointed to the river as a fish swam past them and wriggled through the water. A few droplets splashed out onto the grass. Portic turned back to them with a sheepish grin.

"...Why?" Phish asked curiously with his bedroll still bunched up in his arms.

"...It's...fresher?" Portic shrugged to himself.

Ophi stared down at the water curiously. "How are we going to fish them out?"

Phish suddenly turned to Ophi by the riverbed. "You too? Ophi," He gestured over the water, "C'mon. We have to keep moving."

"Didn't you just complain about being tired?" Ophi puffed her cheeks out in a sort of childish manner.

"Yes but-" Phish trailed off into a mutter.

"C'mon Phish!" Portic nudged him with his elbow. "If the commander says we should have lunch then-"

Phish scowled at him with just about as much friendliness as a shark's smile. Despite his iron-hard glare, Portic continued to smile back at him with a beam that could rival the sun's. Their miniature expression stand-off lasted for about a maximum of four minutes.

"...Ophi?" Portic turned to his squadmate hopefully.

Ophi blinked in surprise. "Um…" She was met with the two very same expressions previously locked in stares.

Portic practically begged her with his eyes. Phish's stone hard glare did not convince her.

"Well…" She crossed her arms and locked them together decisively. "I...guess a snack couldn't hurt."

"Yeah!" Portic pumped one fist in the air righteously. "That's our commander for you!"

"...Fine." Phish shook his head in disbelief. "One fish. Then we get going."

"Nice!" Portic grinned widely. "...Any idea how we get them?"

Phish glanced at the raging rapids. A single fish hopped out of the water for a second and dropped back in immediately. "Cod clam it."

"Oh hang on!" Portic raised one finger.

With everyone's eyes on him he reached behind him and grabbed his Bamboozler and aimed down at the stream. His left eye shut, he trained his open eye on the ripples in the water, and with an expert's touch, unloaded shot after shot into the water.

"Take this!" He yelled as a blot of ink blasted out of the barrel. "And this and this!"

The shots of blue bounced towards the river. One after another the bullets of blue spiralled in an arc downwards towards the clear rapids below. Each and every single one sequentially smacked into the water and washed away in the stream. Phish and Ophi stood behind silently as Portic ogled the estuary mute and hollow.

"...I tried." Portic twisted his head around foolishly.

"...Yeah. You sure did." Phish muttered and took a step forward. "So what, do we jump over the river?"

"Hey hey hey!" Portic shook his head. "We're not giving up yet! So obviously shooting them won't work. Maybe we can bait them out."

"How?" Phish asked with a roll of his eyes. "Are you going to stab them with your stick next?"

Portic hesitated with his hand as he dangled the barrel of his Bamboozler over the river. He retrieved the bamboo and stowed it away behind his back. "Of course not!"

"Well then OHH NOO," Phish draped his right hand over his forehead and laid one foot in a kneeling stance. "The fish are unreachable! Ohhh noooo what ever will we- C'mon guys."

"...Well there was no reason you should've been such a flounder about it." Portic shook his head.

"First of all, that's either racist… or specist, and I'm not entirely sure how to classify that." Phish mumbled much to Portic's dissent. "Secondly, reminder, we're in the middle of a war! You wanna stop and eat, that's fine, but maybe somewhere a little farther from the giant enemy erected barricade back there!" Phish shouted as he gestured his hand behind them.

He felt his hand smack into something. For a brief moment, Phish closed his eyes, sighed, and turned around. Standing over him was Rinse with the ever sleeping beauty that was Sumera still slung about his shoulder as if she were a bag. Lo and behold Phish's offending appendage lay smack dab with the fist back towards the much stockier Inkling's chest. The others instantly cringed and backed away towards the river.

As Rinse's hardened expression lowered itself to eye level with Phish's, Phish opened his brown eyes and gazed back at the grey ones in front of him, and said, "...Sorry."

Rinse took it upon himself to raise one hand and pat him once on the head. "It's fine."

Phish sighed in relief.

"Stupid." Rinse hummed with a plain smirk.

"Pfff." Portic and Ophi's faces scrunched up with glee as they stood byt he bank.

"...Great." Phish muttered underneath the hand that continued to smother him as if he were a pet. After a moment longer of being subject to affection Phish reached up and slapped the hand with an, "Alright that's enough!"

"Heh." Rinse's small grin faded as the others continued to guffaw. "In all seriousness...what seems to be the problem here?"

Phish huffed, crossed his arms, and whirled towards the water. "As you can see-"

"Phish won't let us fish!" Portic called out with an impish call.

"Oh my Cod shut up." Phish groaned to himself.

"...Phish won't let you...Phish?" Rinse arched an eyebrow down at the other Inkling.

Flustered, Phish straightened out his tie twice, and stormed off towards the riverbank. "I've had it with this joke. You guys go ahead and try to go catch something."

"Hmm." Rinse murmured as he set down the Inkling sprawled across his shoulder down onto the ground. "Let me take a look."

"Yeah Rinse!" Portic cheered from the sidelines as his stockier pal approached the water.

" _Am I the only one on this team that doesn't want to die? Sheesh."_ Phish thought as he gazed wistfully at the horizon.

His gaze eventually returned to the riverbed where he noticed the others crowd about Rinse. He kneeled down to the river and narrowed his eyes down at the water. His eyes took note of the ripples rampantly washing about. With a steady breath he rolled up his sleeves and wriggled his fingers. Phish's eyes blew up in size.

" _No way."_ He thought to himself and let his arms drop down at his sides. _"He's not actually going to reach in is he-"_

His theory was dispelled in an instant as Rinse stabbed a metallic tentacle into the river very ungracefully.

" _Of course he isn't."_ Phish frowned and slowly slogged back towards the river. " _No. Out of all the things that have happened..."_

As if he carried a spear Rinse gave an experimental twirl with the newly impaled fish stuck on the tip of the metal tentacle.

"That was great!" Portic cheered as he snatched the fish off. "Now let's eat!"

"Where'd you get that from anyways?" Ophi asked with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

"A souvenir." Rinse commented with a nod back towards the east while Portic retrieved his next meal as he licked his lips. "From the octopus."

"Have you been carrying that since that thing exploded?" Ophi asked with an eyebrow arched.

All Rinse did in response was nod. As Ophi attempted to examine him with a very suspicious eye Phish walked over to Portic who frolicked about the bank.

"Alright Phish." Portic hummed as he gestured towards him with the fish in his hands. "Despite your skeptics I'm willing to make a peace offering!

Phish glowered down at the fish in his hands. "It has a hole in it."

"...Okay now you're just being picky." Portic huffed and pushed the fish into his hands. "C'mon Phish. We're all part of a squad y'know."

"...I was just commenting on the hole but…" Phish reluctantly let Portic drop the fish in the palms of his hands. "...Thanks."

"Alright!" Portic pat him on the shoulder and waltzed off towards the grass. "I'll go ahead and start a fire!"

An alarm sounded off in Phish's head. "Sure. Uh...that sounds...good."

He continued off on his merry way to potentially torch the grasslands. Portic stopped by the bank in next to where Rinse continued to assault the fish with his stolen proboscis. All the while Ophi walked over with a smile on her face as her wooden necklace jingled about her neck.

"Nice catch there." She teased him with a nudge to his arm. "Think we should call you a Phish-erman?"

"You people are hopeless." Phish shook his head in embarrassment. "If I don't get splatted by the enemy I hope I don't die with you guys laughing over my grave."

Ophi hummed placatively. "Phish, calm down. They're just having fun." Suddenly a smile poked back onto her face. "Or are you just allergic to that?"

"That's a possibility." Mai whispered from the inside of his sleeping bag.

"..." Phish frowned down at the bag.

"Alrighty! We're done!" Called Portic.

Phish and Ophi turned back towards the estuary. Rinse hefted a large staff with several fish strung about side to side in a rack on the metal tentacle. Each salmon laid impaled and lifeless on the rack yet swung with the breeze.

"This should be enough." Rinse announced firmly.

" I'd argue that isn't enough." Portic blinked back at him.

"Unless you want salmon to go extinct I'd say that's enough." Phish frowned at the fish corpses. "...At least the ones that can't talk."

"Yeah…" Ophi frowned all of a sudden. "It is kinda weird how there are fish you can eat and different ones you can talk to."

"I'm not complaining." Portic grinned as he plucked a few blades of grass and stacked them on top of one another.

Rinse raised the bar of fish with one hand and reached into his pockets. He retrieved a small box with a match emblazoned in the front cover and tossed it to Portic as well as a single fish now with a hole in the middle.

He struck a match, sheltered the red tip from the wind, and got to work. "I can't wait!"

The familiar aroma of fish and smoke blended together in an amateurish yet enticing aroma. Ophi and Phish took in a deep breath and let in the air.

"Look at that." Ophi sighed contentedly. "You feeling better Phish?"

"Barely." He scowled and glanced over the horizon. "...It smells nice though."

She smiled and gazed over at the grass and the sand in the riverbed. "See? Loosen up a bit more."

The both of the gazed westward as the sun hung over the squadron. Portic had switched to spitroasting the fish over the fire, carefully rotating the food over the flames, slowly cooking them. Rinse sat down by the still unconscious Sumera who, in her daze, still sniffed the air graciously as the smoke drifted over her head. The other two sat by the river watching the surviving fish flip out of the stream every now and then.

"...This isn't so bad." Phish finally admitted as he placed his sleeping bag in front of the river.

"See?" Ophi sighed in response. "Are you finally coming around?"

"Well," Phish adjusted himself, "It would be better if the threat of death wasn't hanging around us."

"Mmm." She frowned next to him.

During their small chat alongside the sand and water Portic licked his chops at the sight of several savory singed stacks of salmon stuck in a small row. "Mm!"

"That looks reallly good." Portic heard someone croon. "Heated to perfection! I like the char lines."

"I know right?" Portic spoke without a glance behind him. "I'd like to think I'm a real connoisseur."

"Ooh." The feminine voice hummed. "Could I have a bite by any chance?"

"Sure!" Portic spoke up and turned the stick to the side.

He felt a tug on the stick and the feeling of the metallic tentacle getting lighter. As light as metal could get anyways. When he brought it back over the small cluster of burning grass and twigs he frowned. Two salmon on the end of the stick were absent from their roast.

"Yeesh Ophi." Portic commented as he kicked back. "If this was the case we would've caught a few more."

"Hmm?" Portic heard another voice come from behind him. "What'd you say Portic?"

Suspicion crept up into Portic's chest. Slowly but surely he pivoted back towards the river. Phish and Ophi gawked back from the waterway queerly with Ophi's helmet by her side. A perturbed expression realized itself on his face. He casually twisted his head to the side.

Another Inkling, her helmet covered in fuchsia, her orange tentacles straggled about wildly and chipped in, chewed on the remainder of her fish. Her orange eyes gazed tiredly up at Portic as he stared back shocked as did the rest of his squadron.

She finished with a gulp. "Many gratitudes friend!"

With that she planted her face into the grass by the fire. Her body went limp in an instant. Everyone looked on in horror.

Portic glanced down at the fish and gulped. "Maybe we should've cleaned them first."

"Huh! Look at that!" Another voice chimed in.

The others glanced up from the corpse lying by the fire up towards the grass. A platoon of seven Octotroopers stationed just besides the campfire aimed their platforms' cannons directly down at Portic who glanced from side to side in frantic bewilderment.

One of the Octotroopers laughed and shook his head. "Guess she wasn't lying! Reinforcements WERE just over the hill! Guess you owe me thirty coins bud!"

"Oh darn." One of the Octotroopers in the back complained. "Thanks a lot!"

The corpse hardly seemed as though it would reply.

The Octotrooper laughed yet again. "Eh! Doesn't matter! We get these guy's helmets and the commander won't splat us! We're home free gang!"

As the squadron of Octotroopers guffawed in a circle around Portic with their weapons at the ready the others stared in terror. Phish gulped once and reached at his side.

"Dude." Mai whispered from within his sleeping bag. "Are you nuts?"

Phish glanced down at the entrance of the sleeping bag. Two violet eyes glared back at him. His hand hovered over Mai's Octoshot reluctantly. The eyes continued to gaze at him. Phish looked back up to the side, over to Ophi, who had one hand on her cheek and another underneath the tower of sleeping bags. A bamboo shoot stuck out from underneath.

"...Probably?" Phish offered as he rose to his feet.

The eyes folded upwards in cheer. "Maybe you aren't allergic to fun."

Phish stood up and dashed forward as his tie flapped in the wind.

* * *

AN: Apologies for yet another delay. Life hasn't been the greatest of All Time if you catch my cold.

I am happy, however, that the reception of this story so far has been mostly positive. Especially as its own identity from the other stories of mine. Thanks to all the other writers out there who thought my story was nice enough to read.

Speaking of reception I'd like to thank the reviewers. Thanks Guest for reviewing. Apologies that the transition was a bit rough but thanks for offering your criticism regardless.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


	13. Extreme Durability

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Extreme Durability**

If there was ever a moment to trust in his instincts then now was probably not the best time. Phish's instinct was simple and he hated how simple it was. One hand haphazardly glued to the borrowed Octoshot and the other reached to accommodate its brother. He ran forwards towards the enemy squadron ready to shoot and unprepared for everything else. Phish took it upon himself to take it as a compliment and a stroke of blind luck that one of the Octotroopers distracted himself and laughed at his foolhardiness.

"Well then sure." Their leader guffawed and swerved his platform's cannon to aim. "I don't mind a free splat on my record."

Phish pointed the nose of the Octoshot across the fields. He ran vigilantly and confidently with his finger on the trigger and his eyes on the prize.

"Phish?!" Portic covered his face with his hands. "Watch where you're aiming!"

Phish suddenly hefted the gun over his head. "Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot!"

He slung the Octoshot forward. Immediately the other Octotroopers began to take aim. Their cannons fired at the weapon as it sailed through the air in a blurry arc. Violet ink soared past and landed with heavy 'plunks' as they dunked into the ground below. Phish skidded to a stop, switched into a squid, and leapt to the side.

The Octoshot dipped in altitude and landed at Portic's feet. As soon as he picked it up the Octotroopers refocused their attention on their hostage. "Shoot him!"

"I- Um, uh...take this!" Portic cried out and lashed out with the butt of the gun.

The metal surface smacked into the front of the "leader's" platform. The Octotrooper on top glanced down at his platform and fumed down at a sizable dent. "Great! Now I'll have to work overtime! Splat him!"

"Uh oh." Portic blinked suddenly.

They trained their sights in a circle around Portic who gulped in the middle with the Octoshot still clenched in his hands. He began raising his hands up in the air placating. Before they could react to his surrender one of the Octotroopers toppled over on the grass below.

"Whuh?" Portic backed away as an Octotrooper landed face first on the grass.

"Run!" Rinse growled as he wrestled the troop down to the ground. One of his fists had a miniature scuffle with the Octotrooper's head tentacle.

"Okay!" Portic called out and switched into a squid.

He hopped over Rinse and the Octotrooper and glanced back once. Rinse and the Octotrooper grappled and luckily for him it appeared as though the Inkling was winning. That being said, regardless of the outcome of the fistfight, Rinse was a shoo-in for the loser of the "living" fight as the other Octotroopers set on firing. Portic's eyes caught Phish as he stared back with his own brown pupils.

The both of them, panicked though they were, managed a small nod back at each other. They turned and they fled from the Octotroopers.

One of the Octotroopers blinked its yellow eyes lazily. "That's odd…"

As they peered away out from their circle the Octotrooper currently in a skirmish with the brick wall Rinse yelped. "Oh Cod! Oh Cod! He's tearing me apart! Somebody do something!"

"Oh right." The head Octotrooper blinked. "Forgot about that. Shoot him T3-rry."

An Octotrooper to his right nodded and swerved his cannon towards Rinse and fired a single shot. It bounced across the field and splashed across Rinse's face with a sizzle. He grunted and laid still on top of the other Octotrooper.

"...Did I…?" T3-rry swallowed nervously. "Is he dead?"

Underneath Rinse's body the other Octotrooper wriggled his head free and gasped for air. "Yeah! I think so."

The head Octotrooper grunted. "Alright then. Wiggle out and get back on your platform. We have Inklings to splat."

A frantic nod responded in turn. For a moment he grunted and tried in earnest to escape from the Inkling's body mass. He wriggled and snaked as much as his bizarrely formed body could allow him to no clear escape from the juggernaut on top of him.

"I need a little help here!" He called in terror.

The head Octotrooper rolled his eyes, nodded to the others, who set off mowing over the grass with ink. As they all departed for the other Inklings the head Octotrooper crouched down and offered his tentacle down to his companion. As his tentacle lowered he felt an unfamiliar grip tug on him.

"...No way." His pupils dilated in terror as did his teammate's as he watched the Inkling rise to his face.

"If there's anything to take from this experience…" Rinse growled and rose his face up. With a steady hand he brushed off the fuchsia that chewed at his face. "You're going to need something bigger than that to end me."

"Ship." They cursed with a whimper.

* * *

Portic dashed off over hill and yonder. He bit his lips, tried not to look back, and swiveled his head behind him. "Are you still after me?!"

Several blitzes of ink soared past his ears and face and landed in small rain-like puddles to his sides.

"Great! Just checking!" He called back with a grin on his face.

The Inkling leaped to the top of a hill and slid down the back in his blue squid form with a laugh. The Octotrooper followed behind, albeit slower than they would have hoped, and fired wildly into the great beyond as Portic took skips, hops, and jumps among the hills. It was not unlike a duck avoiding the gazes of bloodthirsty hunters.

Circling about the hills, Portic tittered cheerfully, taking each and every blot of ink dashed at him as another opportunity to pop up from the green ridges and taunt the enemy with a well-timed flash of his tongue. "Nice shot! You guys couldn't hit the broadside of a sunfish!"

"Hey!" One of the Octotroopers screamed back. "We aren't all blessed with opposable thumbs!"

They fired again. Through sheer force of anger alone the speed of their ink firing appeared to speed up and transformed into a hasty stream of fuchsia bullets. As the ink bullets sped up Portic yelped and bounded up and down the hills even faster. Soon it became a game of cat-and-mouse between the two forces. Portic continued to leap and bound with his life on the line, his legs spinning about quickly in the air as if he were attempting to sprint on the very oxygen, while the Octotroopers continued to blast away.

"That all you got?!" Portic challenged even as he danced out of the hazardous fire.

Both of the Octotroopers glanced at one another. One of them aimed ahead of where Portic hurried and fired. Portic barely had time to react before he was blindsided by a glob of ink. His balance faltered and his limbs failed him. The Inkling dropped to the ground as if he were a tree chopped down with an axe.

The pinewood-like thud that vibrated out from the hills caused smiles to slink onto the Octotroopers' thick lips. "Nice shot."

Their cannon nozzles turned down to the pastures below and gushed a pathway of ink yet again. The descended and ascended across the large mounds of turf with large grins as their platforms hitched them across the hills in the direction of their would-be victim. The groans of soreness that echoed up into the air only made the Octotroopers speed up.

They eventually managed to lug themselves and their metal carriages up over a short slope and gazed down. "Check it out."

Feebly crawling over towards the still unconscious form of Sumera was a blue squid with drops of fuchsia dripping down its tentacles. Portic dragged himself across the ground with one tentacle while the rest lazily carried themselves.

"Hey, hey, watch this." One of the Octotroopers cackled wickedly and began to run its vehicle towards the squid.

The other smirked. "Oh that'll teach him for sure."

Portic peeped behind him with a shaky head. The enemy continued to advance with no signs of stopping. Finally Portic managed to lift himself by Sumera's arm and flopped down with a groan.

The Octotrooper grinned. "This'll make a great campfire story…"

"Blr-gree." The squid replied in its state of repose.

"...Wha?" The Octotrooper cocked the side of its face over the platform's cannon funnel. "...Last words?"

"I agree." Portic reached underneath Sumera's sleeping form with one of his two larger tentacles.

"Hey, hey!" The Octotrooper re-aimed at Portic. "What are you d-GUUOUG!"

His command fell on deaf ears. It also might have also been due to the bamboo staff planted in his face. The hilt shaped handle of the Bamboozler pushed into his squishy skin as Portic swung with all his might. The Octotrooper was quite literally swept off his feet as the Bamboozler whirled around Portic's torso. The octopus flew off across the hills off into the great beyond.

His friend did not take too kindly to the fact that Portic hit a home-run with his squad-mate. "You squid in the grass!"

"Yeah?" Portic blinked and turned around. "That's me."

The Octotrooper's weapon extended and poised itself to fire. "You coward! You Inklings are always like this- Dishonorably striking us when we least expect-"

His tangent was cut short as well. A smack noise erupted from behind him and the Octotrooper was sent off into the stratosphere after his companion before him. Portic watched and whistled as he blasted off at the speed of light away from the fight.

Portic whirled back with his arms and Bamboozler at the side of his hip. Rinse lowered the gigantic tentacle down to the grass below and nodded despite the eroded skin on his face. "You okay?"

"...I'd be more worried about you!" Portix gestured with an open palm. He slapped both his hands on his hips. "Your face is- How do I put this…"

Rinse shut his left eye and nodded solemnly. "We need to find the others."

"Right..." Portic nodded reluctantly and caressed his chin. "Maybe Ophi...can look at this."

Portic carried himself up to the hill besides Rinse. Rinse crouched down and offered him his shoulder, an offer Portic could not refuse, as with a tall hop he pushed himself off of the hill into the air in his small squid shape and landed with his eyes pointed at the sky and his tentacles lazily strapped over the other Inkling's shoulder. Even though it felt his face was being chewed on by a swarm of miniature piranhas Rinse coped with the pain and continued over the particularly paltry precipices and powered through.

* * *

Phish blinked at the unusual scene unfolding. He tapped the inside of his cheek with his tongue and glanced over at Ophi. Her Bamboozler was aimed but Ophi's hazel eyes were fraught with nervousness and unfocused panic. The Octotrooper's expression was a mirror image. He looked squeezed and unsure and his weapon was hardly set to fire as the white funnel cone of his cannon continued to stare down at the grass.

"...None of you are going to shoot?" Phish and the eyes in his sleeping bag stood in the middle frozen yet serene despite their location.

Across the field but a few steps yonder Ophi gulped. "...I might hit you!"

Phish blinked and turned about towards the Octotrooper. "What about you?"

He froze up. "If I know...our leader…" The Octotrooper gulped and aimed yet again. "He's...going to...be here with reinforcements...in n- In no time."

"Ah, Jer'…" Mai's voice cooed disapprovingly from the bag. "Still hasn't grown a spine."

The Octotrooper blinked for a short moment and glanced around. "...Huh?" He manually pivoted his platform around. "...Wait a minute…"

Phish took the time to whirl around back to his Inkling companion and yell. "Quick!"

"Ah!" Ophi clamored and fiddled with her weapon.

"No wait!" Mai's voice hissed back in a panic. "Don't shoot! Tell her not to shoot!"

Phish shook his head in disbelief and aimed back towards Ophi with his eyes. "No wait! Don't shoot! Don't-"

Too late. Ophi had finally explored her weapon and her finger had discovered the trigger. The barrel surged up towards the clouds and a jet of blue fired out. The line of ink vaulted through the air, across the landscape, all the way across and scored a bulls-eye.

"!" Ophi dropped the bamboo staff and clamped her hands over her mouth in horror.

"..." Phish's shoulders sunk.

"...Whoa. Nice shot." Mai blinked and peeked her head out. "Any closer and you would've splatted Jer'."

Blue ink leaked from the Octotrooper's cannon. It wriggled for a while then exploded in a glorious mix of fuchsia and azure ink spray which created a nice puddle of abstract art right on the floor. Without hesitation, "Jer" swiveled his platform around, and promptly bolted from the scene as fast as his platform could carry him. Which turned out to be extraordinarily swift.

"MAAAAAI!" He shouted in an almost ear splitting sob. "Where are you?!"

"...Jeez." Mai shook her head from within her bag. "Drama queen."

"Huh…" Phish heaved a sigh out and turned around. "Thanks Ophi."

Ophi sat on her knees with her hands now limp by her sides. "Y-You're welcome."

Phish nodded back at her reassuringly. Then came the fanfare. "Aw! Guys, you're letting him get away!" The duo turned to their sides where Portic waved back at them.

Except now he looked quite a few feet taller.

Portic waved back at them in his jolly old Inkling skin from atop Rinse's tired shoulder with Sumera sound asleep on the other shoulder. "You almost got him Ophi!"

"...Thanks." Ophi glanced down at her Bamboozler reluctantly as it rolled onto the grass.

"...Hey wait a minute." Portic glared at the Octotrooper as it sailed off into the distance. "All of the other ones moved at a turtle's pace. How is he-"

The Inklings heard a blare. Portic, Rinse, and Phish watched as a jet-stream of ink launched the Octotrooper into the hills and beyond far out into the horizon.

"Okay that's just not fair." Portic groaned and glanced down at his Bamboozler. "Does this thing at least have like turbo-rockets or...something?"

All of a sudden Portic felt himself fall a few feet closer to the ground. He bit his lip and glanced down at his companion. Rinse coughed and groaned with one hand pressed against the grass and the other on his chest.

"Oh shoot." Portic switched into a squid and dismounted his friend. He leaped back up onto the grass and ran towards Ophi with his reformed legs. "Ophelia! I require your assistance, my madame!"

Ophi perked up at the sound of her name. "What?!"

As the others scrambled towards Rinse, Phish could not help but stand and follow the thick trail of violet, and ambled across along the path laid out while Ophi frantically poured a puddle of ink down from her bamboo weapon.

"Clear!" Portic shouted, reached behind Rinse's fatigued head, and dunked him in.

Rinse's face plummeted into the blue puddle. Ripples ran across the thin layer as the other two Inklings watched in horror as-

"Thanks." Rinse coughed as his head rose from the depths of the liquid with all of his features cleanly restored to their normal hardy expression.

Although Portic's countenance grew into that of frantic delight, Ophi shook her head slowly, as she examined his face. "I don't…I honestly didn't expect that to work."

In the background Phish stood atop a short knoll and examined the path. He and Mai looked upon the small path for a second and glanced at each other.

"...Friend of yours?" Phish spoke up after a long while.

"Jeremiah." Mai commented and shook her head with a faint smile barely visible through the shadows of the bag. "We hung out a lot. Before this war."

"So if I see him again…" Phish sunk to his knees. "I'm going to have to convince the others to not shoot at that one Octotrooper."

"..." Mai bit her lip. "Yeah I'd...I'd like that."

"When did this all get so bizarre?" He complained up to the sky. "Is this what I get?! Huh?"

"Hey, hey, calm it." Mai snapped up to him. "Phish, look at me."

Phish glared down at Mai with a miffed expression. "What…?"

"Am I going to have to give you another pep-talk?" Mai asked earnestly with her violet eyes glaring back at Phish.

"...No." Phish muttered and covered his face with his palm. "It's just-"

"Good, because I didn't want to anyways." Mai yawned and retreated back into the bag.

Phish stared down at the bedroll opening and heaved out a sigh hotly. "You're a real pal."

"Buck up Phish." Mai spoke up at him. "Again, war, trying to survive here."

"I'm getting lectured by the girl taking refuge in a sleeping bag." Phish pointed out and sighed. "Alright. Sorry. Just going to let you sleep."

"That's why you're my friend." He heard the Octoling chime back at him.

"Yeah." Phish slid down the hill on his now green slip-ons. "I can assure you the feeling's completely mutual."

"Mm…" He felt her rustle deeper into the bag. "Glad to hear it."

Phish shook his head and walked off away from the trail of ink. His gaze shifted down to a familiar, albeit wretched, sight in front of him. The corpse of the Inkling girl from earlier continued to lay on the ground without a sound. For one reason or another, Phish could only sigh, and set himself and his occupied sleeping bag next to her and stared down at the grass as the light began to fade.

"...gone?" A voice called out.

"Speak up Mai. I can't hear you." Phish shook his head.

Mai cleared her throat. "Uh...wasn't me."

Phish arched an eyebrow for a second. The voice called up again. "Pardon me, I asked, 'are they gone'?"

His eyes went wide as he stared across at the corpse. "...No way."

"They aren't? Better go back to playing dead, I suppose." The "corpse" replied oddly gleefully.

Phish reached over and shook her shoulder. All of a sudden the fallen arms once limp sprung to life and gripped his appendage. He yelped and attempted to pull his arm away only to drag up a small, yellow squid with orange eyes, dried fuchsia ink on her small head.

"Oh!" She cried out in surprise. Her shorter tentacles wiggled happily. "Many apologies friend! Did you think I had actually gone?"

Phish, and Mai's hidden eyes, nodded at the peculiar squid.

The squid took the form of a girl garbed in uniform with several stains on her army clothes. With her free left hand, she reached into her shorts, retrieved a small rag, and wiped off her battle damage with her right hand still caught in between Phish's grip. "Thank you for drawing their attention away! Say, do you happen to have any more delectable fish?"

"...I...uh…" Phish bit his lip and released her arm.

The other Inkling tilted her head at his perplexed look. "Ah! Of course! How rude of me. Apologies many more, for I've, uh, I was shot a few times in the back today." She cleared her throat and gazed back up. "Let me start over. My name is Cherida! Pleased to have made your acquaintance!"

She offered her hand for Phish to shake. It was coated in grime. He shook, albeit reluctantly, and continued to stare at her.

"...What seems to be the conundrum my compadre?" She asked with a tilt of her head. "Do I have oil on my noggin again?"

"Phish...I thought you were dead." Phish stated explicitly.

"Ah, well, I've been practicing." Cherida shrugged her shoulders and smiled back up at Phish. "But hold the presses. You said fish? Where?"

A faint snicker emanated from Phish's sleeping bag. He frowned and sighed. "Like I said, bizarre." Phish stood up and sighed. "But before we do all of that...what do you know about the western front?"

Cherida took a moment, pursed her lips, and glanced up at them. "The front? Oh. It was smashed to smithereens."

* * *

AN: Hoo doggie am I in hot water. Let's see, I gotta manage this story...then the others...let's see. Carry the three…factor in holidays...the rate of which I'm motivated...

Well I hope you haven't been waiting too long! Or at all really. You guys have work right?

Even if you don't have anything to do I'd like to thank you for reading again. This is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off again on a quest of nutrition. Mostly fast food.


	14. She's A Killer Query

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **Of Tired Circumstances and Frightening Queries**

"Years of training. Tip-top of the line technology fresh out of the development labs." She giggled erratically.

Rigidly still Jeremiah stood atop his mobilized platform. Though his posture was straight as a sentient tentacle could be his yellow eyes betrayed his dignified stance. They shivered in fear. His squad-mates hardly fared any better.

Who could blame them? The black steel cage of an office Query dwelt within was not the friendliest. The dome of dark metal arranged in a small spherical room made Jeremiah feel extremely claustrophobic. Strange elastic pillars periodically stretched and contracted in large slots as a few desperate rays of light managed to peek through a circular opening in the ceiling. Yet despite the enclosed walls and the depressing interior in the middle of the enormous room there stood a dainty "u"-shaped table littered with maps and charts labelled in ink. Query, her standard Octoling Goggles strapped to her face, paced around the table.

"Oh, and uh, how many of you did you say there were?" She removed her goggles and flashed small eyelashes at them innocently.

Jeremiah gulped and swiveled on his platform slowly to the others. Two of them rubbed considerably large bruises on their back. The other two's faces appeared slightly shriveled. A few drops of dried blue continued to persist aside their lips and eyes. They sniffled and Jeremiah sagged guiltily down by his mildly dented platform.

"Let's see...one, two…" Query pointed at each one of them. "Five! Now, um, would any of you care to tell how many Inklings you were charged with splatting?"

The Octotroopers shuffled uncomfortably in place.

"Oh come now! Tell me!" Query grinned and took a step forward. "I don't bite. You!"

Jeremiah flinched and glanced towards her. The Octotrooper's tentacles curled up in terror as she approached.

"What's your name?" Query cooed at Jeremiah. "Sorry! Can't ever seem to keep track of all of you…"

"T3-rry…?" He gulped back at her.

"Your REAL name." She cooed again with a much more intrusive hum in her throat.

"J-Jeremiah, ma'am." He answered with a quivering voice.

"I asked how many Inklings were you and your squadron assigned to, Jeremiah?" She implored as her face homed in uncomfortably closer. "Why did none of you answer my question, Jeremiah?"

He shivered and cautiously his gaze slowly gravitated back on his squad-mates. "...We...there was one-"

"Oh! Right! One Inkling…" Query's grin began to waver. "And five of you. See something wrong with that? The fact that ONE managed to triumph over all FIVE OF YOU?!"

"...Quality versus quantity-" One muttered from the back.

All of a sudden Query leaped back to her desk. She reached for one random map, tore it off the face of the table, crumpled it into a ball and hurled it in the direction of the voice.

"Ow!" An Octotrooper complained in the background.

Query slammed her hands up to her forehead and screamed. "You are all so FEEBLE!" Then, for a brief second, Query turned and tapped her chin. "Either that or they have some sort of Inkling genius on the battlefield…" She promptly turned back about and screamed again. "But if that's the case then you should. Have. RETREATED!"

The Octotroopers' fear suddenly inspired a chorus of blubbering excuses. All their complaints, blame, and regrets mixed into a cacophony did not appear to help Query's temper. As her tentacles began to rise in irritation their voices died down.

"One at a time." Query muttered down at them. "One at a time."

The leader of the squadron stepped forward. "We-"

"Not you." Query snapped and turned back to Jeremiah. "You."

Jeremiah swallowed and cleared his throat. "...We ran into more Inklings than expected."

"More?!" Query arched her eyebrow. "That's impossible! Western Front was absolutely, completely, definitely destroyed!"

"...Except for the one Inkling we were chasing." Another Octotrooper's voice murmured. They could hear the sound of paper crumpling again before that Octotrooper was struck with a ball of blueprints. "Ouch!"

Query bit her lip and crossed her arms all while she tapped the floor. "Unless…" Her goggles lit up. "Unless!" She whirled back around. "What did you say the reinforcements looked like?!"

"We didn't say-" Jeremiah began, noticed the glint in her goggles, and cleared his throat nervously. "Um, well, I saw one with a tie-"

"A tie!" Query exclaimed suddenly and gripped Jeremiah by his sides. "A tie!" She reiterated and began to spin around with Jeremiah raised above her head.

She laughed maniacally as she spun around on the tips of her heels. The other Octotroopers watched in a perplexed silence as Jeremiah was whirled about. They could not help but feel pity as his eyes lolled about dizzily.

Eventually Query finally stopped shaking him and let him fall flat on his face with another carefree chuckle. "Jeremiah, Jeremiah! You and your squadron have made a breakthrough! A revelation!"

"We did?" Jeremiah mumbled with his face flat on the floor.

She lifted him up and stacked him back upright. "Yes, you did! You found him! The one I wanted to ERADICATE!" Query giddily stepped about the room. "My dear Jeremiah, my dear, dear, Jeremiah. Had I the authority you would become the new second head of the Octarian army for your levelheadedness."

Jeremiah swallowed as he noticed the glares his fellow Octotroopers shot at him from behind.

"But for now a simple request should do." Query hummed and leaned in. She paused over Jeremiah's tentacle head and glared back at the other octopuses. "You're dismissed. Leave."

The head of the squadron flinched. "But ma'am-"

"LEAVE." Query snapped her fingers.

A panel opened up with frightening speed. To the side of the squadron to be exact. They stared at the sudden opening in the walls in surprise as it laid close to them.

"...It never opens up all the way." Query's lip quivered. "It was supposed to...you were supposed to…"

The head of the Octotroopers gulped and pushed his platform towards the opening. "We'll let ourselves out."

Query sighed in defeat and hung her head low. "...I wanted it to be all funny...have it so you would've fallen out the...ugh."

The Octotrooper squadron crowded among the opening in the room. Simultaneously they fit through the rift, metal vehicles and all, and departed from the room.

"Jokes on them though, I didn't stop the machine yet." Query perked up.

The sound of tumbling resounded back through the room with the added groans and surprised yelps as well as the stress of machinery as it pounded against the ground. Through the crack in the wall Jeremiah bore witness to his squadron sprawled out in the dirt and grass outside in a disorientated accumulation of tentacles and injuries. Behind him, Query reached into her shorts pockets, retrieved a small black remote with several colored buttons, and clicked a prominent red button at the head of the remote. She clicked the button, and immediately, the sounds of machinery halted. Steam could be heard.

The door shut behind Jeremiah. Query turned around, smiled sweetly, and waltzed up towards him. "What can I do for you, dear Jeremiah?"

Jeremiah swallowed and stood as tall as he could. "...My friend." He stated firmly. "She's out there still. Mai…"

"Mai!" Query exclaimed and took one firm step backwards.

"Er, I meant M-41!" He apologized and bowed. "Is there a problem with that?" Jeremiah flinched.

Query perked up and straightened out her uniform. "No, no. Don't you worry your dearest little tentacle. We will find her in due time." She gripped him by his sides and forcefully turned him about. "In the meantime you and your little search team can go about and explore. Make sure to splat any Inklings who might be still alive!" She laughed with a suspiciously fake glee. "Otherwise our western attack can, and by extension, my plans, RUINED!" Query turned him back around and gazed into his eyes sharply. "Got it?"

Jeremiah nodded profusely. "Yes ma'am, of course ma'am!"

"Oh good!" Query spun him back around as the walls reopened. "Have fun now! Don't die out there Jeremiah!"

With that she kicked Jeremiah and his platform out the side. He collided headfirst with the dirt and grass below. Though his vision blurred and his head stung, through the fragmented vision, he could make-out an Octoling closing her fingers in a small wave to him. Then the walls shut.

Mechanical gears stirred up his senses. While he struggled to balance his platform and himself upright he could not help but gaze upon the mechanical monstrosity he had been not long before. A spider-like mech danced away on gigantic tentacles. They pushed against the soft grass away in the distance. Jeremiah blinked and gazed back at the machine as it stomped close to a camp in the distance, red and violet specs barely visible in the distance.

"Jer! Jer!"

Jeremiah spun about and faced the voice. His squad-mates glided upon the hills towards him. He gulped sheepishly and stood still.

"Holy ship you're alive!" One of the Octotroopers called out as it rubbed his bruise.

Jeremiah sighed in affirmation. "Yeah…"

"Pay up! Told you he'd survive!" Another piped up eagerly.

"...You bet on me." Jeremiah sulked and felt his spirits drop.

"Knock it off, guys." The head Octotrooper scolded and smacked the others with his head tentacle. He glanced over towards Jeremiah. "T3-rry, how did it go?"

"...She just asked me questions. I answered." Jeremiah hesitated and gazed back at the Octoweapon as it swirled off into the distance.

"..." The Octotroopers looked him over uneasily.

"What?" Jeremiah frowned back at them.

"...I guess he isn't brainwashed." Someone piped up.

"What?!" Jeremiah repeated in surprise.

"We need to focus, guys." The head Octotrooper sighed and moved his platform in front of the lot of them. "We let an Inkling get away. Granted, she died, but we could've been next." The tentacle on his head pointed down at his stained face. "Just look at this! We have to get back out there and stop those Inklings. We can't take this sitting down! Who's with me?!"

Silence came from the Octotroopers. "...I was literally launched through the sky," Another Octotrooper complained, as it rubbed its sore back.

"...So we need more troops first." The head Octotrooper turned and started to follow Query. "Probably a lot. Who's with me?"

An uproar of enthusiastic chants followed this time. The troop marched together and followed the ginormous Octoweapon as it strode across the fields as an intimidation to Inklings and as a beacon of hope for the Octarians. As they made their way across the fields, Jeremiah could not help but glance back once over the uncharted empty masses of green hills, then turn and continue to march although exceptionally reluctant.

* * *

AN: There's a lot of potential in Splatoon now that I think about it. Not just in the city and in Inkling personal life that a lot of people delve into. Imagine the spectacles of Fire Emblem-type campaigns or Legend of Zelda adventures Splatoon could have based on lore alone.

Granted, I don't think I'd be able to tap into all of that in this story, but oh well.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, off to watch a nature documentary about cephalopods.


	15. A Starry Night Talk

**Splatoon: The Drafted Squid**

 **A Starry Night**

The campfire blazed on into the night, it released small embers which were swept away from the grass below by the thankfully vigilant winds, precariously carried off to burn elsewhere. Despite the gusts blowing past it seemed as though the spritely bonfire would not yield to the wind's merciless, yet soft at the same time, tugs on its heated glow.

Sitting upright on the side of the hills, Portic and Rinse gazed up at the stars, up until Portic twisted around and spoke up, "Hey Rinse?"

Rinse turned on his side slightly curiously. "Mhm?"

Portic peered up at the sky brightly as the stars blinked back just as bright. "What's the weather going to be like tomorrow?"

Rinse leaned back on the grass and twisted his head up towards the sky, and squinted up at the stars. "Cloudy...or sunny. It might even rain."

Portic sat up straight and glared at Rinse. Rinse cocked an eye at him curiously, only for Portic to lie down on his side with a pout, rustling the grass underneath him.

Portic crossed his arms. "I thought you were some sort of weather guru!"

A small smile cracked very slightly onto Rinse's face. "I just know about a few clouds during the day," he explained as he leaned back and yawned. "I can't use the stars to determine if we get rain or shine, Portic."

Portic snickered. "Dude, what? You're built like a tank and can tell clouds apart from each other. Are you actually being humble about this?"

Rinse's smile faded away into his default stoic expression. "Eh, I just things I happen to know."

"Yeah? Betcha a bunch of coins Phish and Ophi can't tell a circus from a cucumber nimble mobile," Portic announced proudly and reassuringly.

Rinse cocked an eyebrow puzzledly at him, silently repeating what Portic just said. The other Inkling continued to stand up on the hill ignorantly and blissfully with a foolish grin on his face. Portic blinked all of a sudden, frowned at his comrade, and plopped down on the grass with another, even bigger pout on his face, and slugged him lightly on the arm. He glared at Rinse, irritated, while Rinse lounged casually on the cool grass and gazed at the sky.

"You know what, you're teaching me these cloud things first thing tomorrow," Portic demanded with a point of his finger.

"Why?" Rinse shrugged and stretched across the grass.

Portic huffed and stood upright. "You're the one always telling me that 'nature is a gift' and other vegan junk."

Rinse frowned and peered back at him with a half-lidded expression. "I'm not a 'vegan'." He settled into the grass. "So I know a little about nature. Not many people care about it."

"If you admitted you were a Squid-quatch I wouldn't hold it against you," Portic muttered absentmindedly.

Rinse shrugged again and gazed up at the stars. The reaction prompted Portic to turn around and inspect him with a newfound curiosity as he switched into a squid and crawl over and under him. Rinse simply yawned in response and turned on his side while Portic attempted to discern whether or not his friend was a mythological creature.

Meanwhile across the turf sat a campfire and four other Inklings. However, "sat" was an exaggeration, as one was sprawled out in a coma at this point. Sumera, still unconscious, laid with her head back on the dirt and a jolly old smile on her face. Despite their leader lying still down on the ground, they continued to peacefully unwind with the time they had.

Well, at least one of them did anyway.

"Mm! Mith goof!"

Phish and Ophi sat still and in awe across the bonfire and watched their new squadmate chow down. Several wooden sticks laid strewn about by the logs with bits of fins and fish skeletons messily attached with chunks of meat and skin missing. The scene looked like a massacre and judging by Cherida's eager expression and the crumbs on her cheeks, it would continue for quite some time.

She rubbed crumbs off of her face and beamed. "This is fantastic!" Cherida glanced towards the grass and prodded Sumera's side with a cleaned stick, "You want some, lady?"

Sumera yawned.

"More for me!" Cherida cheered.

The other two could hardly stop watching her eat. The practical apron she wore was still stained with ink as was her face. However, unlike before, her tentacles rippled with the same color as the rest of their squadron: a brilliant blue in stark contrast to her previously orange tentacles. The patterned stripes of blue in her tentacle twisted like screws dangling off of her head, quickly replacing the once orange hue.

Phish leaned in by Ophi and asked, "So what's with the tentacles?"

"I think it's an army thing," Ophi murmured, mesmerized by the eating spree, "In the event we shoot each other by accident or jump into the wrong ink, we can stay safe."

"...How does that work?" Phish asked curiously.

"Myeah! Muh oink ond yoors-"

"Huh?" Phish twisted his head.

Ophi perked up. "Right! So, hang on. The thing about the ink we use in our Bamboozlers is that, technically, we could easily hit each other by accident and hurt each other."

"Uh huh," Phish nodded, "So?"

"She must've sampled one of our ink reserves, or come in contact with one of us, or something," Ophi explained, "It's sorta like that, but you'd have to be careful with mixing ink."

Phish shot her a look. "...She ate someone's ink?"

"I- Well-" Ophi stammered with a blush, "No?"

"Nuh," Cherida mumbled and shook her head, "Wutch muh."

She reached a hand down to their unconscious commander, still chewing on a fish. As she snored, Cherida lightly pressed her hand to her tentacles laying on the grass. Cherida's tentacles began shifting in color. The orange in her tentacles began to dissipate quickly as the blue began to overtake the appendages.

"See?" Cherida mumbled with a smile as she took her hand off of Sumera's tentacles. Only a few traces of orange remained.

"...Ah," Ophi commented and squinted at her suspiciously.

"When the shell could we do that?" Phish whispered. Ophi simply stared at him, just as confused.

Phish and Ophi continued to stare at Cherida as she laid waste to the river fish. Though it may have been due to the fact they were all charred beforehand, Phish swore that each fish she picked up grimaced right before she munched them. Eventually, during a lapse in her endless spree of bites, she paused, wiped her face with her apron, and offered a fish to the pair across from her.

The both of them perked up. "Ah, no, thanks, it's fine," they managed to stammer out, the two shooting a stare towards each other soon after.

Cherida shrugged, reached back, sighed contently and laid back on the grass. "Whew! You all sure know how to cook!"

"All we did was spear a few fish and raise them above a flame," Phish whispered into Ophi's ear.

"Be polite. She just came back after her Splatoon was destroyed. She deserves it." Ophi muttered back and managed a smile towards Cherida. "It's okay, right?"

"You betcha," Cherida stated, closed her eyes and rolled on her side. "I'm done. See you in the morning!"

It only took about two seconds before the light sound of snoring accompanied the soft crackling of the fire. Phish and Ophi gawked at her as she joined Sumera in dreamland, both of whom were knocked out cold.

Phish smirked back to his right. "You're right Ophi. That's the worst case of PTSD I've seen."

Ophi rolled her eyes. "...At least it's better than 'commander'."

"She does have a point though." Phish stretched his arms.

"...That we're decent at cooking?" Ophi spoke up in a light tone with a smile.

"'I'm done' more like it," Phish spoke up and fell back towards the bonfire, landing with his tentacles just out of the flame's reach. "Welp, I've accepted our fate."

"Phish!" Ophi groaned at the other Inkling. "Again? Really? What is it going to take for you NOT to give up?"

"Being safe at home." Phish scowled at the sky.

"Aren't you tired of complaining?" Ophi frowned down at him.

Phish sat up and crossed his arms over his knees. "Listen, sorry I'm being a 'downer', but maybe I can't deal with the fact that any day now, we could get crushed like a twig."

Ophi stood up over him. "Phish, that's how it's always been! You just haven't gotten to see it firsthand until now."

Phish sighed and shook his head. "Maybe not, but I for one sort of liked the idea of being secure."

"You're hopeless," Ophi grumbled and shook her head. "What's happened has happened Phish."

"You can't tell me you're completely fine with this!" Phish argued back at her.

Ophi shouted back at him irritably. "Well, it's certainly better here than where I've been!"

A gust of wind blew by the campfire. The embers fizzled and the fire wavered underneath the cold. With a hot-blue face, Ophi resigned herself to sitting with her legs crossed, with her hands on her cheeks.

Phish's expression softened. "...Huh." He stood and stared down at her. "Well okay then."

Ophi glanced away slightly. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything."

"No, it's fine," Phish mumbled, "Sorry."

Phish shrugged and sat down silently. For a moment, everything was quiet, and the fire seemed to crackle less frequently. The slight snores of their two companions and the wind persevered. All the while, Phish's tie flapped in the chill air of night.

All of a sudden Ophi's face began to glow blue. "...Ugh."

"Ophi?" Phish tilted his head.

"Nothing," she muttered as she glanced around the site.

"Alright." Phish shrugged and leaned backward on the grass tiredly.

With a frown, she peered towards their other companions, and she set her head down. "...Aren't we novel heroes."

"Eh." Phish shrugged with a scowl on his face as he sat cross-legged on the grass. "More like zeros."

"I-" Ophi's tentacles flapped erratically.

"Sorry, forget _I_ said anything." He shook his head solemnly and laid back on the grass.

Ophi's tentacles eventually stopped fluttering and dangled aimlessly in the chilled night wind. She stared at Phish with a stare of contempt, then sighed herself, and lowered her head as she sat back down by the fire. She gazed listlessly at the wood as it crackled and burnt.

"What was your life like?" Ophi spoke up suddenly.

Phish arched an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. Before this war." Ophi folded her arms together in front of her lap.

A few embers drifted past Phish's face. Lips pursed, he blew up into the air and wrapped his arms around his head.

"Before?" Phish's eyes gazed at the sky. "When you put it like that, I guess I can't help but say that not much has changed."

Ophi tilted her head in confusion, and her tentacles flopped to the side. Phish could not help but smirk as the two of them draped across the grass.

"Hey." Ophi took her tentacles and wrapped them together. "Not about me."

"Does it have to be?" Phish asked, to which Ophi nodded back at him, and to which Phish sighed back at, "Nothing's changed."

"That's a lie." Ophi tossed the knot of tentacles over her helmet.

"Nothing," Phish repeated, "I just took work that I needed to. Minor construction, development, anything they'd have on hand. I wanted to pay my bills."

"And the war?" Ophi sat up straight.

"I told you. I got stuck in the draft," Phish muttered with a scowl and shook his head, "Fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Thought it'd be something I might get paid for and went for it."

Ophi blinked and stared at him in confusion. "Wait, you…You 'fell' for a draft?"

"...I'm finished talking about this," Phish muttered as he laid on his side, hiding his face.

"Hey, come on! There must be some benefits out of this. C'mon," Ophi stated with her fist underneath her chin, "Like...like working in Inkopolis, after the war ends, you might be able to…um...maybe get bonuses for your service?"

"Sure," Phish muttered as he glared up at the stars, "Maybe."

Ophi sighed and shook her head. The two sat in silence. Every so often, one of the two would feed the flames tufts of grass or small twigs.

"Phish, could you do me a favor?"

Phish glanced up from the flame and stared at Ophi. Hands on her lap, she stared directly at him from across the fire. As the flames writhed in place, Ophi stared him down, much to Phish's discomfort. He nodded back to her.

"I know it's hard, it's still our second day 'on the job'," Ophi explained as she crossed her legs, "But...could you try to lighten up?"

Phish frowned. "Hmm?"

Ophi glanced up and away. "I just, I'd hate to see anyone get hurt. I'd hate to see you get hurt. You know? An attitude like that…" Ophi stared him down again, hardly an expression on her face. "It's dangerous."

Phish made another sour expression. His facial expression melted away quickly, however, and he simply stared down at the grass in defeat. Ophi stared at him as he sat silently on the dirt and grass for a good long while.

"Alright."

Ophi perked up and gawked at Phish. Phish just glanced away.

"What are those two doing?" Phish muttered absentmindedly.

A smile crept up on Ophi's face. "Okay then. I'll hold you to that in the morning."

Phish cocked his eyebrow and turned back. "You're going to sleep already?"

"Mm. I'll be able to think better in the morning," Ophi explained as she pulled her sleeping bag from the grass behind her, "I mean if you could-"

Phish nodded. "I'll take the first watch."

Ophi smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, Phish. Good night."

"Night," Phish muttered.

Ophi beamed at him one last time. Wrapping herself up in the comforts of her sleeping bag, she curled up on the ground and let herself drift to sleep. Alone, Phish stared down at the fire.

"Hey. good idea. Night guys!"

Phish had to dodge to his left as a sleeping bag fell on the grass. The warm feeling he had dissipated extraordinarily quickly and was replaced with that of annoyance. Standing tall above him, Portic was there, perched on the back on Rinse. Carrying both his companion and his own sleeping bag, Rinse lowered himself to the grass.

"'Scuse me, Phish," Rinse murmured as he laid the sleeping bag flat on the grass.

Portic jumped off of Rinse's back and landed on his own sleeping bag. "Sweet dreams!"

Phish shot him a glare. Confused, Portic tilted his head, then spotted Ophi. After one look at her fast asleep face, Portic made a low "ooh" noise in understanding. Portic winked at Phish, mouthed "good night", and shrunk into a squid. His sleeping bag jumped and jolted as he made an effort to get inside, much to the others' amusements.

"I can stay up with you, if you wish," Rinse offered as he laid on the ground.

"No, it's...it's fine," Phish muttered.

As if activated via voice commands, Rinse nodded robotically. Finished, he shut his eyes and snored lightly, joining the rest of their platoon in dreamland. With a sigh, Phish reached back and gripped the grass, tossing a handful into the fire.

"How's it going?" He heard someone whisper to him.

"About as good as usual, Mai," Phish muttered to the voice.

Mai poked out from the shadows on her knees and plopped herself down by Phish. Alarmed, Phish spun around quickly, only to feel Mai's finger press against his lips. She silenced him just as quickly, much to Phish's displeasure. Phish made a face and rolled his eyes, much to Mai's amusement.

"You keep doing that and you'll be stuck with one of those faces. It'll make one shell of a wake-up call for the others," Mai whispered with a quiet laugh.

There was a lapse of silence. Mai cocked her head in confusion.

"Mai, what did you do before the war?" Phish asked.

Mai smirked. "You're just asking me this now?"

"I was a little wrapped up," Phish explained as he adjusted his tie again.

"Do you want the long version or the long version?" Mai asked as she laid on her belly, absentmindedly twirling a blade of grass around her finger.

Phish frowned. "The-"

"So, I was just your everyday Octoling," Mai began with a wink, "Still pretty young, pretty as always."

"Hur hur," Phish teased, pulling his tie through a loop.

Mai pursed her lips. "I was on my way home, just touting a buncha ingredients for a sandwich, you know me."

"I really don't," Phish argued.

"On the road home, I ran into these two other Octolings," Mai explained as she plucked the blade of grass from the earth, "They were in armor like this, guns in their hands. They told me to come with me. I said 'flip off'. Then they said 'no', and I said 'or what'?"

She sat upright. "Sooner or later, give or take a few mandatory training sessions and orders, I ended up being told to scout out and potentially assassinate any Inklings that came our way.

"You're an assassin?" Phish scowled.

"If I was," Mai smiled at Phish sweetly, "I'm a pretty sucky one."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Phish muttered.

Mai perked up. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

Mai feigned a blush and held her hands close to her hearts. "You really DO like me!"

"I'm just following Ophi's orders," Phish muttered.

Mai winked repeatedly. "Sucking up to the leader, huh? I getcha, I getcha. Because when you suck up, she can suck-"

"Okay, good night!" Phish shouted a little louder than he wanted to.

Ophi stirred, "Phish, shhhhhhhh."

To Phish's right, Portic chimed in, "Some of us are trying to sleeeeep."

Phish sighed quietly and remained silent. Satisfied, the others returned to their slumber while Phish tended to the fire. Out of the corner of Phish's eye, Phish watched Mai pull his sleeping bag closer to the flames. Switching into an octopus, Mai cozily buried herself in the sleeping bag with the cattiest expression she could manage. She yawned and burrowed deep into the soft sleeping bag. Snoring soon followed.

Phish shook his head. For the rest of the night, he watched the fire, making sure it did not take to the grass. Eventually, the fire dimmed and fizzled out, leaving nothing but ash and burnt wood. Soon after, Phish followed suit and felt himself fall asleep on the grassy floor.

* * *

AN: Again, I'm testing the waters in terms of updates. Mostly because these are a bunch of unfinished chapters I just recently finished.

Today was a bit of a weird day. It started off nice. I even walked out to the park. I never would've expected that fiasco to go down at YouTube headquarters. I hope that everyone there will be in the best shape they possibly can in spite of the disaster that happened.

On that note, let's review the reviews. Thanks, Guest and R.C.D. for reviewing.

I'm sure I might finish this story one day, Guest, maybe not today, but I'll finish. Maybe.

I'm glad you enjoyed the characterizations, R.C.D. I had fun with them.

Thanks for reading, this is ThePizzaLovingTurtle, see you.


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